


Kidnapped

by SaxonSpud



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21874660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaxonSpud/pseuds/SaxonSpud
Summary: Emmeline McKenzie lives with her parents in a large house of the outskirts of St. Denis.Her father is a rich businessman.She lives a life of luxury, until one night several men break into the house.The men lead by none other that Dutch Van Der Linde, kidnap her. Her father has only three days to pay the ransom. What will happen once the three days are up?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Emmeline

Dutch Van der Linde rode through the deserted streets St. Denis. It was midnight. The dimly lit street lamps flickered, as the riders headed towards the outskirts of the town.

“What exactly are we doing here at this time of night,” Arthur Morgan, asked his mentor. The other riders, Javier Escuella, John Marston and Bill Williams, were curious as well.

“We’re paying someone a call,” Dutch chuckled.

“Ya mean we’re robbing someone?” Arthur replied.

Dutch hummed, “not exactly son, not exactly!”

The riders approached a large house, on the outskirts of the city. It was surrounded by wrought iron fencing and a large double gate.

The two guards on the inside, were carrying rifles, but no side arms.

As Dutch approached the gate, one of them stepped forward.

“This is private property and you should leave,” he grunted.

Dutch drew his revolver, “and unless their payin’ you enough to die for, I would let us in, and head home.”

the two guards glanced, at each other, then at the five men.

The both leant the rifles against the brick pillars that supported the gates, and opened them.

“Good decision, gentlemen. Now don't do anything foolish, like contacting the constabulary, will you?” Dutch warned

The men shook their heads, and scuttled off into the darkness.

“Mr Escuella, Mr Williamson, stay here and make sure we’re not disturbed.” Dutch commanded, “John, Arthur, you’re with me.”

Dutch strode into the front doors, closely followed by Arthur and John.

He glanced around the sumptuous interior, and headed for the large staircase, which lead to the upper level. After opening several doors, he finally found what he was looking for, and walked into the master bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing in my house? How did you get past security?” The man in the bed growled. His wife gripped onto her husbands arm, nervously.

“You should pay your security more, Mr McKenzie. They don't appear to be very loyal!” Dutch scoffed.

“What the hell do you want,” McKenzie growled.

Dutch smirked, “I understand you have a daughter!”

Dutch glanced at Arthur, “go and find the delightful Miss McKenzie, son and bring her here.”

Mrs McKenzie stared in horror, “Please, please don't hurt my daughter!” She begged.

“Don’t worry Mrs McKenzie, if you all do as your told, no one needs to get hurt!” Dutch concluded.

He nodded towards Arthur, signalling him to go.

Arthur walked down the hallway, opening several doors.

You lay sleeping, oblivious to what was occurring in the house. Oblivious until Arthur Morgan opened the door of your bedroom. The clink of his spurs as he walked towards your bed, woke you.

You gasped, and sat up. Your blonde hair, cascaded down your shoulders. You pulled the bedclothes up to your chest. Blue eyes blinking, trying to adjust to the dimness in your room.

“It’s ok Miss McKenzie, I just need to take you to your parents room.” Arthur advised, calmly.

“Are...are you a robber?” you asked, curiously.

Arthur stifled a chuckle, “not exactly,” he replied, “but I do need you to come with me.”

You threw back the covers, and swung you legs over the side of the bed, before dropping gently onto the floor.

Arthur stared at you. The hem of your silk nightgown, finishing just below your knees, the fine straps, leaving your shoulders all but bare. The silk, hugging your curves in all the right places, you might as well have been naked.

You looked at him, staring at you.

“Should I put something else on?” You asked, innocently.

Arthur smiled, and shook his head. “No...no, your fine.”

When you reached your parents bedroom, the door was open, just a crack. Arthur pushed the door open and you walked in.

Your mother immediately looked at you, “He didn't hurt you, did he Emmeline?”

you shook your head, “What's going on mummy?” you asked.

Before your mother could answer, Dutch looked across at you and smiled.

“ahh the lovely Emmeline, come here sweetheart,” he beckoned.

You glanced at your mother, and she nodded.

You slowly walked over to the man almost completely dress in black. Once you reached him, he smiled down at you. He was tall, he must have been about 6ft. Compared to him you were tiny, only 5ft 2”.

He stood behind you and put his hands on your almost bare shoulders. You gasped, as the rings on his fingers, touched the bare flesh of your shoulder. His thumbs gently rubbed circles on the base of your neck.

“Now sweet Emmeline,” he began, “I understand you’re soon to be married?”

You nodded, “yes sir,” you whispered.

Dutch hummed, “what a sweet, polite girl you are.”

“Now tell me Emmeline,” he continued, lowering his head, so it was close to your ear, “who’s the lucky man,”

You trembled slightly, as his breath caused goosebumps to break out on your neck.

When you didn't answer immediately he hummed questioningly.

“M...Mr Cornwall,” you replied nervously.

Dutch stood up straight, and chuckled, still rubbing circles gently on the back of your neck.

“So Mr MacKenzie, how much is Leviticus Cornwall paying you so that he can wed your teenage daughter, hmm?” He asked, glaring at the man, still sat in bed.

You frowned, “daddy?”

“Oh sweetheart, didn't you know?” Dutch cooed with fake sympathy, “Daddy gets shot of you, and gets paid as well.”

Tears started to pool in your eyes, as you looked at your father.

“Emmeline, its not like that!” your father soothed.

“Is it not?” Dutch countered, “tell us then, Mr McKenzie, what it it like? How much is that ugly old bastard paying you for your daughter!”

“He’s not paying me, he’s giving me a stake in his business, to secure my daughters future!” McKenzie growled.

“Daddy?” a tear trickled down your cheek, “you didn't tell me he was old,” you sobbed.

“Be quiet Emmeline, this is for your own good!” Your father snapped.

Dutch gently started rubbing your shoulders, “don’t worry sweetheart, everything’s gonna be fine,” he soothed.

You turned your head, and looked up at him. Dutch looked at you and smiled.

“Now Mr Mackenzie, what's the stake?” Dutch growled.

Mr McKenzie sighed, “twenty per cent.”

Dutch chuckled, “twenty percent, in Cornwall kerosene and tar! That's got to be worth a pretty penny.”

McKenzie glared at Dutch.

“Well McKenzie, what’s your daughter worth?” Dutch demanded.

“Two hundred thousand,” he huffed.

Dutch nodded, “I’d say she was worth that much,” he hesitated, “actually I’d say she was worth a whole lot more!”

Dutch stroked your cheek, making you gasp again, before replacing his hand on your shoulder.

“So here’s the deal, McKenzie, we’ll take a down payment, of whatever you have in your safe, downstairs. Then once you’ve given us the rest, say, three days from now, I’ll return your daughter.”

McKenzie stared at Dutch, “I don't have that sort of money!”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “Three days McKenzie! Two hundred thousand, or you’ll never see your daughter again.”

You started to sob, “Please daddy!” You begged.

Dutch let go of your shoulders, and grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling them behind your back.

“Arthur?” he called.

Arthur pulled a length of rope from his satchel, and started to bind your wrists.

“Not too tight, son.” Dutch reminded him.

“Jonas! Do something!” Mrs McKenzie screamed.

Mr McKenzie, was about to get out of bed, but John, pulled his gun.

“Don’t be a hero,” he growled.

You struggled, to get away, but Dutch held you fast.

“John, tie those two up, then go fetch some of her clothes, Arthur, get into the safe and take what you can.”

Dutch lifted you up by the waist, like you were some doll, and headed towards the door.

“Daddy!” you wailed, tears cascaded down your cheeks.”

Dutch pressed his face to yours, “don’t you worry sweetheart, everything's gonna be fine.”

He pressed his lips to your neck, which only made you sob even harder.

At the last minute, he turned to look at your now tied up father.

“Three days, Mackenzie. Three days!” Dutch warned, as you were carried out of your home, to god knows where, and to who knew what fate.


	2. Good Girl

“ _Three days McKenzie! Two hundred thousand, or you’ll never see your daughter again.”_

These words echoed in your mind, as Dutch carried you towards the front door.

You’d stopped struggling, but you were still crying.

You felt dirty, the way his hand had stroked your face, the way his thumbs had rubbed up and down on the back of your neck.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” Dutch soothed, “three days and it’ll all be over.”

Panic raced through your mind, what if your father didn't have the money, or what if he decided not to pay. These men, these kidnappers would like as not kill you. They’d already told your father that if he didn't pay, he’d never see you again!

Dutch waited by the front door, for Arthur and John.

John appeared first, with a bag in his hand.

“How’s he gonna get us the money if he’s tied up?” John asked.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “a house this size doesn’t clean itself. The maids will find them in the morning! Now stash that bag on your horse.”

John headed out the front door, just as Arthur emerged from one of the downstairs rooms.

“How d’ya get on, son?” Dutch asked.

Arthur nodded, “pretty good, ten thousand in the safe. If that's his loose change, the two hundred thousand shouldn’t be a problem!”

Dutch nodded, “good, c’mon lets get outta here.”

As Dutch carried you out the front door, you realised that this would probably be your only opportunity to get help.

“Help! Please, somebody...” You screamed at the top of your voice, but your scream was cut short, when Dutch’s hand clamped over your mouth.

Not to be silenced, you tried to bite his hand.

“Fuck!” he hissed, “you little...” he didn't finish the sentence, biting his tongue.

Dutch put his hand around your throat, enough pressure to silence you, and frighten you a little.

“Now that wasn’t very polite, was it!” he growled.

Arthur walked beside him and pulled out a bandanna.

“You want me to do the honours?” he smirked.

Dutch nodded, as Arthur tied the bandanna over your mouth.

You tried to scream, but it just came out as muffled grunt.

“Now young lady, you better behave yourself,” Dutch growled, as he walked towards the front gate.

Javier looked at you and grinned, “furiosa chica bonita!”

You couldn’t understand what he said, but you carried on trying to scream through the gag.

Dutch laid you over the front of the saddle, the mounted up. Before he had a chance to push his horse on, you started to kick with your legs, still trying to scream through the gag.

The Count, Dutch’s horse, started to prance and whinny.

“Enough! Dutch yelled, and swatted you on the backside three times with the flat of his hand.

You squealed through the gag, then started to cry.

“Listen to me Emmeline,” he growled, “we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I can assure you, you won’t want to do it the hard way!”

Dutch pushed his horse on, as you whimpered, through the gag. The other men followed closely behind, as they left the city, and your family home behind them.

You had no idea where you were going, and even less idea how you would be treated. The ride to wherever they were taking you, was not the most comfortable one for you. Your screams, turned to sobs, and then into whimpers.

You wondered if you’d been a little less rebellious when you left the house, whether the trip would have been made more comfortable.

It was very unlike you to be quite so unruly. You were usually very meek. But then it wasn't everyday you got kidnapped, tied up, and in fear for your life.

When you finally arrived at your destination, Dutch dismounted, but didn't lift you immediately from his horse.

“Arthur, take her upstairs and put her in one of the bedrooms. One with a bed,” Dutch ordered.

You were lifted off the back of the horse, and tossed over Arthur's shoulder.

From what you could see, it was a big plantation house. It was certainly nowhere near St. Denis. Any hopes of being rescued, completely disappeared as Arthur carried you into the house.

Dutch took your bag of clothes from John’s horse, and headed towards the house. He was quickly intercepted by Hosea.

“What have you done now?” he questioned, rolling his eyes.

Dutch smiled, “that Hosea, is our ticket out of here. That is Jonas McKenzie’s daughter. In his infinite stupidity, he decided to sell his daughters hand in marriage to our friend Leviticus Cornwall for a twenty percent stake in Cornwall Kerosene and Tar!”

Hosea frowned, “and there was me thinking slavery had been made illegal. So what's the plan?”

Dutch chuckled, “three days from now, McKenzie will be paying us two hundred thousand dollars to get his daughter back!”

“Are you sure he has that much?” Hosea queried.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “of course he has. Why do you think he wants those shares? Its so he can buy more, and have a controlling interest in Cornwall’s company. He had ten thousand in loose change in his safe!”

Hosea nodded. Although he still wasn’t happy about kidnapping a young girl.

“Poor kid, how old is she? Doesn’t seem right her being married off to that old bastard, he’s old enough to be her grandfather!” Hosea huffed.

Dutch nodded, “Seventeen, according to the information Josiah provided, and his information is generally good. Everything else was, including the lack of security.”

Hosea shook his head, “so the poor girl still gets offloaded onto Cornwall, once we get the money.”

Dutch hummed, “maybe, but that’ll be up to her. If she wants to go back in three days, she can. If not...In the meantime, I’ll let our little guest know the house rules!”

The room that Arthur took you into was lit by a couple of lanterns. As Arthur dropped you onto the bed, you whimpered. The ride from St. Denis had taken most of the fight out of you. That and the fact that you were wearing next to nothing, and your bottom was still stinging, from the swats you had received.

Arthur did kind of feel sorry for you, you hadn't asked to be kidnapped.

“Just try and behave kid, it’ll go better for you, if you do,” he advised.

He walked away from the bed, and headed towards the door.

You made a noise through the gag, hoping he would take it off. He didn’t he just quickly glanced over his shoulder, before leaving the room.

You laid there on the bed, all resistance and fight had gone. Being kidnapped by outlaws was bad enough, but learning that your father was intending to marry you off for money, was the last straw.

As the door opened, your heart began to race faster.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and you felt now that it had been a mistake to try and bite your captors hand, and kick his horse.

You closed your eyes. If he was going to kill you, you just hoped it would be quick.

“Emmeline? Are you going to behave?” Dutch asked.

You just lay on the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks.

You closed your eyes, as you felt him sit on the edge of the bed.

Dutch started to untie the bandanna at the back of your head, then gently pulled it from around your mouth.

“Emmeline, look at me?” you opened your eyes, and looked at him for a second. More tears flooded out of your eyes, so you turned your head and buried your face back into the blanket that covered the bed, and started to cry.

Dutch pulled his knife out, and cut the ropes which bound your wrists.

“C’mon sweetheart, sit up,” he soothed.

You pushed yourself up, so that you were sitting on the bed.

“Show me your wrists,” he ordered.

You held them out, not looking at him.

Dutch rubbed his thumbs across where the ropes had been.

“There,” he soothed, “no harm done,”

Dutch hesitated, before he spoke, “Emmeline? Look at me?”

You didn't move, you didn't want to look at anyone, you just wanted to be left alone.

Dutch put his fingers under your chin, and tilted it up.

“Emmeline, are you going to behave?” he asked sternly.

You nodded, gently.

Dutch shook his head, “No Emmeline, I need to hear you say it!”

You glanced at him, for a split second, “yes sir,” you whispered.

Dutch cupped his hand on your jaw, and stroked your face with his thumb.

“Good girl, now talk to me Emmeline, what's the matter?”

“I...I” you stuttered.

Dutch swept a strand of hair behind your ear, “take your time, I know this is all a bit strange, but there's something else bothering you, isn't there?”

You nodded, “I...I want to go home...but...” you hesitated.

Dutch sighed, “Well to start with, you cant go home, not yet. You have to stay here for a few days. While your here, you have to do as I tell you, is that clear?”

You lifted your head, and looked at him, “did you tell the truth?” you asked.

Dutch frowned, “the truth, which particular truth are you talking about?”

“Is...is Daddy really selling me off,” you stifled a sob, “I...I thought he loved me.”

Dutch thought for a moment, how was he supposed to tell and innocent young girl, that her father, had in fact sold her off for some shares in a business.

“Come here a minute, Emmeline. Sit next to me.” he urged.

You scooted across the bed, and sat next to him. Dutch put his arm around you, and gently rubbed your back, “I’m sure your daddy loves you, in his own way...but he loves money and power more. When your daddy pays us. If you go back, then he’ll still marry you off to that old oilman. He’s not a good man. He cares about money and power, more than your happiness.”

You let out a sob, and tears began to fall again.

“Now Emmeline, I need you to listen to me, and listen real good. We don't just randomly go around kidnapping young women, like yourself. That ain’t my style.”

Dutch gently stroked your face, “A pretty girl like you, could have any man she wanted. You shouldn’t be marrying a sour old weasel like Leviticus Cornwall!”

You frowned, “I don’t understand, what do you mean?”

Dutch pressed his lips to your forehead. “You’ve had a long and stressful day, go to bed, and I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.”

You pouted, “No...Please, you have to tell me now!”

“Emmeline! What did we say about behaving? Do you want a repeat of what happened when you upset my horse?” Dutch warned.

You shook your head, “no sir.”

“Exactly, when I tell you to do something, you do it. If you don't, there will be consequences, do you understand?”

“yes sir, I’m sorry.”

Dutch softened his voice, “good girl, now hop into bed.”

Dutch removed his hand from your back, and you crawled up the bed, and climbed under the covers.

He stood up, and sat on the edge of the bed, next to you.

“Lay down.”

You slid under the covers, and laid your head on the pillow.

“Letting you do as you liked, with no consequences, didn't mean your daddy loved you, Emmeline. Now be a good girl and go to sleep,” Dutch scolded.

You looked at him, “can I ask you a question?”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “quickly then!”

“Who are you, how do you know my daddy?”

Dutch chuckled, “that's two questions, but I’ll answer one of them. My name is Dutch Van Der Linde.”

You gasped, “I read about you in the paper, you killed someone!”

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Emmeline, but your safer with me than with a lot of people I know!”

“Are you...Are you gonna kill my daddy?”

Dutch leaned over and kissed you on the forehead.

“Enough questions Emmeline. Time for you to go to sleep,” he whispered.

You watched as he walked towards the door. He didn't look around when he opened it, but he sensed you were looking at him

“Emmeline, I’m coming back in ten minutes, and if your not asleep, your gonna wish that you were!” he scolded.

You quickly closed your eyes, as you heard him chuckle on the other side of the door.


	3. Thief

You woke up with a start, as the realisation dawned on you. You were no longer at home. You’d been kidnapped by Dutch Van Der Linde and his gang.

You slipped of the bed, and tiptoed over to the window.

The sun had only just risen, giving everything a red glow.

Gazing out the window you were amazed and a little distraught that you were slap bang in the middle of a forest and a swamp.

Your life in St. Denis had been one of luxury. You’d never set foot out of the city.

You gasped with amazement, when you saw a deer in the woods. You’d never seen a deer before, except in books, and in the picture house.

You thought about what Dutch had said last night;

“A pretty girl like you, could have any man she wanted. You shouldn’t be marrying a sour old weasel like Leviticus Cornwall!”

Why didn't you just go, there was a whole new world out there. One that you hadn’t seen, being stuck in the city, and cosseted by your father. A father who didn't really love you.

You looked out the window again, freedom was just waiting for you. Besides, in a few days time who knows what would happen. When you asked if he was going to kill your daddy, he didn't answer. He changed the subject. You guessed you should have asked if he was going to kill you!

You looked around the room, and saw a large bag at the foot of the bed. You crept back over to the bed, and opened the bag. You recognised it from last night, one of Dutch’s men had been told to get your clothes.

You delved into the bag, and pulled out some underwear, and a dress. Glancing quickly round, to make sure there was no chance of anyone bursting in, you quickly took off your nightdress, and put on underwear, and the dress. You delved in the bag, looking for some shoes, which you found in the bottom. You slipped them on and crept to the door.

You opened the door a crack, and peered into the room. It was empty.

When you entered the room, you glanced around. You weren't stupid, if you were going to make it on your own, you would really need some money. You saw a tiny chest, on a desk. You heart started to hammer in your chest. You’d never stolen anything before. You’d snuck out of your home before, but not taken anything that wasn't yours.

You walked over and opened the small chest. Inside there was money, and lots of it. You looked around, not sure whether to take it all, or just some of it. You decided to take just some. You figured that if you did get caught, the less you had, the less trouble you might be in. Not that you were intending to get caught, but you never knew. You counted out fifty dollars, and closed the lid. With a bit of luck they wouldn’t even notice any was gone.

You shoved the money down the front of your dress. On one of the occasions you’d snuck out, you’d seen a street woman do that. You wondered why, but you guessed it was because she didn't have a purse.

You crept to the other set of doors, you listened, but didn't hear anything, so you opened one of the doors. Peering through the crack, you saw the hallway empty. The stairs were right outside the door.

You looked over the stair rail, it seemed quiet, so you crept down the stairs.

You didn’t want to risk the front door, so you crept through the house. There were a couple of people asleep in one of the rooms. You were surprised, as they were women. You thought outlaw gangs only had men. Well that's what you had read. Unless they were street workers from St. Denis. You knew from the city, that you weren't supposed to go out at night. Only ladies of the night roamed the streets of St. Denis after dark.

The thought crossed your mind that you wouldn’t be that different, if you’re father sold you to another man. Once you were married, you knew what he would want!

You crept towards the back of the house, you entered an empty room, which looked like it had once been a kitchen. You tried one of the windows, and managed to open it, without making too much noise. You quietly slipped out of the window.

The camp was quiet, you figured everyone was probably still asleep. Not everyone though, you saw movement, just past the main gate. You decided to avoid it. You looked further across the other side, and gasped.

The man himself, Dutch Van Der Linde, standing on a jetty, looking out over the river. That was one person you didn’t want to bump into. You kept close the walls of the house. Beyond some out houses, you saw some trees.

Maybe that was where you had seen the deer. You crept towards the woods, glancing over your shoulder leaving the big plantation house behind you.

Dutch walked back towards the house at Shady Belle. He couldn't get you out of his mind. You were so sweet, so innocent, and oh so fearful. He couldn't wait to get his hands on your sweet little body. When he’d laid his hand on your backside last night, he’d become so aroused. Good job he had some self control. There was no way he was going to let you go back home, just to be given to Leviticus Cornwall!

He flicked his cigar from his finger, before walking into the house.

A quick glance around, he saw everyone was still sleeping. Not surprising, the sun was just up. He didn't sleep that much, only maybe two or three hours a night, if that.

He headed back upstairs to check on on his captive. With a bit of luck, you would probably still be sleeping too. He could just look at you, like he had last night while you were sleeping. So fucking gorgeous, and so fucking innocent.

He frowned slightly when he saw the door to the sitting room ajar. Maybe one of the boys had got back earlier, and put some money in the chest.

As he entered the room, he was taken aback, when he saw the door to the bedroom was open.

“Emmeline?”

He opened the door fully. He shook his head and sighed as he saw clothes from the bag at the foot of the bed strewn around, then he spied your nightgown.

Dutch picked up your nightgown. Holding the delicate fabric to his face he inhaled your scent. "Emmeline what are you doing to me!" He growled under his breath, “and where the hell are you!”

Dutch banged on the door to Arthur's room. “Arthur, Arthur, you there son?”

Arthur opened the door, still looking half asleep, his hair dishevelled.

“What is it?” he groaned.

“Its Emmeline, she gone!” Dutch exclaimed.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “I told you we should have kept her tied up.”

Dutch folded his arms, “now is not the time for recriminations, son!” he snapped.

Arthur nodded, “let me go find Charles, he should be able to find her. She can’t have got far!”

Dutch grunted, and walked back across to the sitting room. He started to pace up and down.

“Your arse is going to be so red by the time I’ve finished with you Emmeline McKenzie!” he muttered under his breath.

Charles and Arthur returned, a short time later.

“How long has she been gone?” Charles asked.

“Can’t be more than about an hour, she was there before I went out for some air, first thing,” Dutch replied.

Charles nodded, and walked into the bedroom, then walked back out. He looked at the cash box.

“You probably want to check that, there’s probably some missing,” he commented, before leaving the room, and following your trail.

Dutch frowned, and walked over to the box. He quickly checked the ledger before opening the box.

“Little thief,” he hissed, as he slammed the lid shut.

Arthur chuckled, “now she’s for it!”

You were in awe as you walked through the forest. It was so green, and peaceful.

You hadn’t seen the deer again, which disappointed you, but you stopped when you saw a pretty pink flower. You sniffed it, but it didn't smell of anything. It was so pretty, you picked some of the blooms.

You were so enraptured with the sights and smells you completely forgot you were supposed to be running away.

You suddenly gasped as a strong arm wrapped around your body and a hand gently covered your mouth.  
“Sshh don't make a sound,” The man whispered, as he turned you slightly.  
You gasped again, as you saw the huge brown bear on its hind legs. It let out a ferocious growl before it ran off in the opposite direction.  
“What are you doing out here in the woods Emmeline?” Charles asked as he removed his hand from your mouth, and released your body. “Have you any idea how dangerous it can be?”

He grabbed the pink flower from your hand, and threw it done, “that’s Oleander sage, that could kill you!” he exclaimed.

You sighed, “you work for Mr Van Der Linde don't you?”  
Charles chuckled, “yes I work for Dutch, my name is Charles.”  
You were distracted as you watched a rabbit hop across the path.  
“Oh look!” You whispered  
Charles smiled at your innocence.  
“C'mon we better go.” He urged.  
You turned to look at him. “Are you taking me back?”  
Charles nodded, “‘fraid so.”  
You swallowed hard, “is he....is he angry?”  
Charles smiled, “no, just worried. Maybe a little cross.”  
He pulled a length of rope from his pocket. “Turn around,” He requested.  
“Are you going to tie me up?” You asked, your brows furrowing.  
Charles nodded, “just following orders.”  
You bit your bottom lip, “do you think you could tie them in front. Last time it made my arms hurt?”  
Charles nodded and smiled, “I think I can do that.”  
You held your hands out in front of you.  
Charles smiled whilst he bound your wrists. “you're not a very difficult prisoner are you?”  
You shrugged, “I don't think Mr Van Der Linde would agree with you,” you hesitated, “he's going to punish me, isn't he?”  
Charles nodded, “I expect so, you did run away and steal his money!”  
You felt your face heat, you were hoping that they hadn't noticed.  
“I only took a little,” you admitted.  
Charles stayed silent and gently put his hand on your shoulder, guiding you back towards the house.  
“I think he's going to beat me, I've never even been hit before...well except for last night when he smacked me after I frightened his horse.”

Charles frowned, “your parents never spanked you as a child?”

You shook your head, “never,” you hesitated, “do you have to take me back...I’m frightened,” you whimpered.

Charles squeezed your shoulder gently, “I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

You hadn’t actually made it that far, and you soon reached the house. Charles took you back upstairs, and into the sitting room.Dutch and Arthur stood there, waiting for you.

You didn’t dare look at him instead you looked at the floor.

Dutch gazed at you, he’d only seen you in your flimsy nightgown. What you were wearing now, took it to a whole new level. The skirt portion of your dress was almost translucent, showing off your legs beautifully. The top half, was low cut, silk and lace. Almost transparent. Certainly not leaving much to the imagination. Dutch wondered why a father, would let their daughter wear such revealing clothes. More to the point, where did they come from. Certainly no shop in St. Denis, and the fashion there, was fairly progressive.

He snapped out of his thoughts.

“Well well, Miss McKenzie,” he growled.

Dutch drew his knife and walked over to where you were standing.

He took hold of your hands, he was surprised that you were trembling. He sliced through the rope around your wrists.

As the rope dropped to the floor, he let go of your hands. You let your arms fall at your sides.

Dutch took hold of your chin, and lifted it.

“I have to say Emmeline, I’m a little disappointed. I didn't reckon you for a thief! Now where’s my money?”


	4. Punishment

You stood in the sitting room, trembling as you stared at Dutch’s face.

Tears began to pool in your eyes, no one had ever told you that you were a disappointment. You weren't sure whether it was that or the fear of what this man might do to you.

“I...I’m sorry,” you whispered, as your voice cracked.

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “why are you sorry? Sorry because you ran away, sorry because you stole from me, or sorry because you got caught?” he hissed, as he let go of your chin.

You lowered your head, then reached down into your dress, and pulled the money out. You held the money out to him, as a tear trickled down your cheek.

Dutch snatched the money from your hand, and glared at you angrily, before turning away and walking over the small box and replacing the money.

Dutch walked back over to you, any softness that he had shown the previous night was gone. He grabbed you by your arm and dragged you over to the bedroom door. He opened it, and pushed you inside.

“Get out of those clothes and put your nightdress back on!” he growled.

You turned and looked at him, “What?” you asked, in surprise.

“You heard me,” he growled, “and put everything away in the bag, unless you want to be in more trouble than you’re in already!”

Dutch slammed the door behind you.

You stared at the closed door, and wiped the tear from your cheek.

  
Dutch turned around and looked at Charles,

“Thank you,” he said, sighing.

“Don't be too hard on her Dutch, she thinks you’re gonna beat her within an inch of her life!”

Dutch huffed, and glared at Charles.

Charles nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “you are though, aren't you?”

Dutch turned to look at Arthur, “did you see what she was wearing, what sort of father dresses their daughter in clothes like that!”

Arthur sighed, “the sort that wants to sell her off to the highest bidder. Parade her around in front of a few wealthy old men, see who offers the most!”

“That man is a complete bastard, he might as well have hawked her around the streets of St. Denis,” Dutch hissed.

Arthur walked towards the door, “You’re still gonna beat her though, aintcha? You wanna be careful, Dutch. She’s terrified. You rough her up too much, she’s gonna go running straight back to her ol’ man. Leviticus Cornwall or not!”

Dutch folded his arms, and stared at Arthur.

“No she ain’t, son. She’s gonna take her punishment, and when we’ve got our money, she’s gonna stay right here, with us.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “and how you gonna get her to do that?”

Dutch looked at the floor, then looked Arthur straight in the eye, “I need you to get me something...from the basement!”

  
You took off your dress and bra, quickly picking up your nightdress, you put it back on.

You had a good idea, what Dutch was gonna do, so you left your panties on.

You packed everything else back in the bag.

You stood by the bed, looking towards the door. You were trembling even more now. When you saw the doorknob turning, you ran to the far corner of the room, and sat on the floor. You pulled your knees into your chest, wrapped your arms around them, looking fearfully towards the door.

  
Dutch slowly opened the door. He knew you were terrified, and prolonging your agony was part of the punishment.

He was a little surprised to see you curled up in a ball, in the farthest corner of the room. Maybe he had miscalculated exactly how scared you were. He took off his jacket, and folded it. Placing it at the bottom of the bed. Then he walked around and sat on the edge of the bed, closest to you.

“Come here, Emmeline!” He commanded.

You stared at him, frozen to the spot. The palms of your hands, and the soles of your feet, sweating.

“Emmeline, you have exactly five seconds to come here, or your punishment will be doubled!” Dutch warned.

He waited.

“Five...Four...Three...”

You ran across to where he was sitting, crashing to your knees in front of him.

“I...I’m sorry, I p...promise I wont do it again,” you blurted.

Dutch rested his hand gently on the top of your head.

“I know you won’t, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean you won’t be punished for what you’ve done,” he explained.

You looked up at him, tears trickling down your cheeks, “please don’t...don’t hurt me,” you sobbed.

Dutch cupped your cheek in his hand, and gently brushed the tears away with his thumb.

“Emmeline, I don't want to, but you haven't given me any choice,” he soothed, “now come here.”

Dutch held out his hand, which you tentatively took. Once you had stood up, he pulled you towards him and over his lap.

  
Dutch grabbed the hem of your nightdress, and pulled it up.

“Tsk tsk, Emmeline, I told you to take off your clothes, and put on your nightdress, and what do I find?”

Dutch pulled you from his lap, until you were standing.

You lowered your head, “sorry,” you mumbled.

“You know Emmeline,” Dutch began, “sorry doesn’t really cut it, does it. You cant even follow a simple instruction!”

Dutch started to tap his fingers on his leg. “Take them off! Now.”

You felt your face heat up, as you lifted your nightdress, and pulled down your panties. You let them drop to the floor, then you stepped out of them.

“Good girl,” Dutch praised, “now come here.”

You went back over to him, and he once again pulled you onto his lap.

He pulled up your nightdress.

You flinched as he laid his hand on the cheeks of your bottom.

“Now Emmeline, tell me why we’re doing this?” he asked.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “b...because I ran away, and b...because it took your money,” you whimpered.

“and?” he added.

“I...I don’t know,” you panicked.

Dutch sighed, “Emmeline, its because you put yourself in danger. Anything could have happened out in those woods, do you understand?”

You nodded, “yes sir,” you whimpered.

Dutch gently rubbed the cheek of your bottom, then before you realised what was happening his hand came down hard. You cried out, half from shock, and half from pain. It was a lot harder than when he had hit you the previous night, or perhaps it was because you had nothing covering you.

The smacks rained down on you, each one seemed to be more painful than the last. You tried to keep count, but after about five you were sobbing.

“Pl...please s...stop!” you begged. You bottom felt like it was throbbing.

Dutch rubbed your cheeks with the palm of his hand, “stop Emmeline? I’ve only just started!” He warned.

You tried moving your hand to cover you cheeks, but he just grabbed it, and held it against your back.

You weren’t sure how many times he hit you, but eventually he stopped.

He pulled you from his lap, and stood you up. Your sobbing, uncontrollable.

Dutch stood up, “That was for running away, disobeying me, and putting yourself in danger. Now I’m going to punish you for stealing. No one steals from me Emmeline, and hopefully this will be a valuable lesson you wont forget,” he lectured.

You sobbed even harder, you thought that he had finished with you.

He laid you over the bed, you gripped the blanket, and buried your face. You didn't even want to know what was coming.

Curiosity however, got the better of you. You turned your head to look, and watched as Dutch unbuckled his belt.

“Emmeline, I want you to count after each strike.”

  
If you had thought that the spanks were painful, the first hit of his belt made you scream.

“Count Emmeline,” he demanded.

“O...ne,” you sobbed.

You heard the swish through the air, before it made contact, and you screamed again, before counting.

“T...wo.”

This carried on, when the fifth strike came, you couldn't even speak, you were sobbing so hard.

  
When his hand touched your head, you flinched, still sobbing.

“Sshh sweetheart, its all over now.” Dutch whispered.

You felt his hand go to your back, rubbing circles.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he soothed.

Your sobbing started to subside. Why was he being nice, when he’d just beaten you half to death.

You didn't even look up when you heard the door open.

“She gonna be alright?” Arthur asked, as he handed Dutch a pot.

Dutch nodded, continuing to rub your back. “Did you get what I asked for, son?”

Arthur nodded, “are you sure about this?”

Dutch nodded again, “it’s only for a couple of days.”

Arthur nodded again, and left the room.

  
You felt something cold on your bottom, and Dutch’s hand rubbing gently circles.

“It hurts,” you mumbled.

“I know sweetheart,” Dutch soothed, “but this will help.”

You turned your face to look at him, your eyes red, and cheeks tear stained.

“I’m really sorry,” you whimpered.

Dutch smiled softly, and gently stroked your face, “I know you are sweetheart, now I want you to close your eyes, and rest. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, “yes sir.”

Dutch gently pressed his lips to your temple, “good girl, I’ll be back in a little while.”

You closed your eyes. You were exhausted. Even with the pain you were in, it didn't take you more than a few moments to drift off to sleep.

  
You weren't quite sure how long you had slept for. The pain in your rear, whilst still there, wasn't as bad as it had been. Something though, didn't feel quite right.

You rubbed your eyes, and gently rolled over, mindful that your bottom was still sore. You heard a clink, metal on metal. You looked towards the foot of the bed.

“NO!” you screamed.

You sat up, throwing off the blanket. The cold feeling around your ankle, was confirmed.

You looked at the metal cuff around your ankle. It was attached to a chain, which was secured to the bedstead.

You sat up and pulled at the chain, but it wasn't going anywhere.

“HELP!” you screamed at the top of your voice, yanking at the chain, but it was fixed securely.

You sat on the bed, and started to cry.

Then you saw the note. You picked it up and read it.

  
Emmeline,

Sorry to have to do this, but its for your own good.

I will pop in later with some food.

There is water on the table.

Dutch.

  
You looked at the table next to the bed, and saw a jug of water and a cup.

“NO! Let me go!” you screamed, and flung the jug of water, at the door.

You burst into tears, “I hate you,” you wailed, as you buried your head in the pillow.


	5. Shackles

Josiah Trelawny, stopped outside the saloon. He removed his hat.

This wasn't his preferred watering hole in St. Denis. He much preferred the higher class establishment in the centre of town, but his would do. It was a better place to discuss the sort of business he would be discussing today.

He walked through the doors, and waved a greeting to the barkeep, before heading to the back room.

“Ahh Josiah, good to see you,” Dutch greeted, as he poured him a drink.

Josiah placed his hat on the table, and sat down, taking a sip of the alcohol. He nodded. At least the refreshments were better than the locale.

“So, how did your foray go, into the world of fathers and daughters,” Josiah smirked.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “the man’s a real piece of work, his daughter on the other hand.”

Josiah chuckled, “she’s a sweet little thing, he hardly lets her out of the house you know.”

Dutch hummed, and reached down into a bag that was under the table.

“Tell me Josiah, where would a man like Jonas McKenzie obtain garments like this?”

He pulled out the dress that you had been wearing, when you took your little trip into the woods.

Josiah raised his eyebrows, “Not from St. Denis, or Paris. That looks more Italian. Milan? Maybe.”

Dutch nodded, “its what our dear Mr. McKenzie has been dressing his daughter in!”

Josiah chuckled, “only the best, and skimpiest outfits when your trying to marry your daughter off to a rich oil magnate.”

Dutch hummed, and narrowed his eyes, “maybe. What sort of money does a wardrobe like this cost?”

Josiah, took another sip of his drink, and scratched his head. “A whole wardrobe, eh?”

Dutch nodded, “even down to her undergarments and night clothes. All of the finest silk, or gossamer lace!”

Josiah frowned, “too much for a man like McKenzie, maybe I should dig a bit deeper!”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “well you haven't got long. Have you contacted him about where to leave our money?”

Josiah chuckled, “not yet, but the plan is rather cunning. I’ll need the assistance of one of your ladies, Mary-Beth perhaps.”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “she wont be in any danger?”

Josiah shook his head, “no, not at all, but she will need to dress very smartly! Why don’t we discuss the details back at your country house,” he smirked, “then you can introduce me to the lovely Miss Emmeline!”

“We can discuss it here, Josiah. Now’s not a very good time for her to be seeing strangers.” Dutch advised.

“Nonsense Dutch, all the effort and leads I’ve given you. The least you can do is let me see her!”

Dutch sighed, “very well. Lets head back now, I need to get back anyway.”

The two men stood up and left the bar, heading back to Shady Belle.

  
Josiah and Dutch hitched their horses and headed towards the main house. Arthur was sitting on the steps. He glanced up and waved to Josiah.

“How’s she been, son,” Dutch asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “she was yelling earlier, but I thought it best to leave her alone. She’s probably a bit pissed.”

Dutch nodded, “why don’t you take Josiah up, I’ll be up in a little while. Hopefully she’s calmed down a bit by now.”

Arthur headed into the house with Josiah, whilst Dutch headed over to talk to Hosea.

Josiah frowned as they headed up the stairs. “is she still annoyed about the kidnap.”

Arthur hummed, “not exactly, there was a bit of an incident, she tried to do a runner, so she’s been shackled to the bed.”

“Arthur!” Josiah exclaimed, “that was never part of the plan!”

Arthur shrugged, “plans change, you know that. We never planned to run into trouble in Blackwater!”

  
Arthur lead Josiah into the upstairs living room, then entered the bedroom.

As soon as he opened the door, he stopped dead.

“Oh fuck!” he exclaimed.

The bed was covered in blood. Blood was dripping from your foot, where the metal had bitten into the flesh.

Arthur ran out of the bedroom, and threw open the doors of the balcony, he yelled down.

“Dutch! Hosea! You better get up here! Bring bandages, and hot water!”

Josiah, stood in the doorway, staring at you.

Arthur shook him, “Josiah, just get out the way, we need to sort this out.”

“Wait Arthur, where’s that camera of yours, take a picture!”

Now it was Arthurs turn to stare, “what!” he exclaimed.

“We can use it for leverage, if her father gets difficult.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and reached into his satchel. Grabbing the camera, he took a picture of you covered in blood, and shackled to the bed.

“You’re sick sometimes, you know that Josiah,” Arthur hissed.

“Means and ends, Arthur. Means and ends!”

  
Dutch ran into the room, his face paled, when he saw the blood.

“Emmeline!”

He ran into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, “Emmeline, sweetheart, talk to me!”

Dutch glared at Arthur, “where’s the fucking key Arthur, get that thing off of her!” he yelled.

Arthur ran over to the desk in the sitting room, and fumbled around in one of the drawers, finally finding the key. He rushed back, and unlocked the cuff, removing it from your ankle.

Hosea had followed him in, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you two sometimes,” his hissed.

“Please Hosea, just try and fix it,” Dutch pleaded.

  
Dutch stroked your face, “Emmeline, come on sweetheart.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, you looked at Dutch, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Why do you hate me? Why doesn’t my daddy love me?” you whimpered.

Dutch cupped your face in his hands, “look at me Emmeline, I don’t hate you, I’m sorry sweetheart, we’re gonna fix this!”

He kissed your forehead.

A tear trickled down your face, “I’m sorry, it wouldn’t come off, I tried, but it wouldn’t come off.”

“Oh Emmie, sweetheart. It wasn't supposed to.”

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into his chest.

“Arthur!” he whispered, “get me a glass of brandy, quickly son!”

Arthur nodded, and headed out into the sitting room. He opened the cabinet, and found Dutch’s stash of Fine brandy, and a glass. He poured a measure, and rushed back into the bedroom.

Arthur handed the glass to Dutch.

“Emmie, Sweetheart, drink this,” Dutch this.

You lifted your head, and Dutch put the glass to your lips.

As you swallowed the alcohol you coughed.

“I...i don’t like it,” you moaned.

Dutch stroked your cheek, “it’ll help, Emmie, just a little bit more.”

You took another sip, and grimaced.

“Good girl,” Dutch, stroked your cheek, and kissed your temple.

“Why did you call me Emmie?” you asked, frowning.

Dutch smiled, “Don’t you like it?”

You rested your head on his chest, “I do like it,” you mumbled.

“Then my little Emmie, that's what I’ll call you,” Dutch purred.

Hosea looked up at Dutch and nodded. Dutch looked at your ankle and it was all bandaged.

“am...am I in trouble,” you whimpered.

“Maybe,” he soothed, “just a little.”

“P...please don’t punish me,” you sobbed, “I’m s...sorry.”

Dutch stroked circles on your back.

“Hush now, Emmie, I think you’ve punished yourself enough already.”

  
Hosea undid the chain, from the bed. “I’ll get rid of this, do you need anything else?”

Dutch nodded, “I’ll bring her down in a bit, can you ask Susan, to get one of the girls to clean up the blood, and get some fresh bedding.”

Hosea nodded, and left the bedroom.

Dutch looked across at Josiah.

“I’ll talk with you Josiah, in a little while. In the meantime fill Arthur in.”

Josiah nodded, and left with Arthur. They closed the door behind them.

  
“Now Emmie, we need to get that nightgown off,” Dutch advised.

You shook your head, and brought you arms up to your chest.

“I can’t...can’t be naked!” you exclaimed.

Dutch frowned, “Emmeline, what do good girls do?”

“behave,” you mumbled.

“And what else?” Dutch asked sternly.

“Do as their told?” you proffered.

“Exactly, now what happens if you don't do as your told?” he warned.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “wait...please, I’ll do it.”

Dutch smiled, “good girl, lift up your arms.”

You tentatively raise your arms, as Dutch pulled the hem of the nightdress over your head, and threw it on the floor.

Dutch gently trailed his fingers down your bare back.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, “so delicate. Such a good girl for me.”

Dutch kissed your shoulder, then your neck, then your collarbone.

You lowered your head as you felt your face heating. You’d never been naked in front of anyone before.

Dutch gently put his fingers under your chin, and tilted your head up.

“Emmie, look at me.” he whispered.

Your blue eyes, gazed into his brown ones.

“Tell me, who’s good girl are you?” he asked.

“Y...yours.” you stuttered.

“who’s gonna look after you,” he continued.

“Y...you are,” you answered.

Dutch smiled, and gently kissed your lips.

  
Dutch stood up, and grabbed a spare shirt out of his dresser.

He slowly dressed you in his shirt, leaving a few buttons undone at the top. The shirt was large, and just hung off your shoulders, leaving the tops of your shoulders bare, but covering the arms. It was as long as your nightdress, so looked a little like a nightshirt. The material, was soft to the touch. The looseness of the garment, made it more comfortable than your nightdress.

Despite being laundered, his scent still lingered on the material.

“Put your arms around my neck Emmie?” Dutch urged.

As you did, he lifted you up, carrying you bridal style.

“Will you always look after me?” you asked

Dutch smiled, “always, princess.”

“Even after daddy pays you?” you added.

Dutch chuckled, “Even after that.”

You frowned, “won’t he and Mr. Cornwall be angry.”

Dutch laughed, “yes princess, they’ll be furious!”


	6. Yours

When you last walked out of the big house at Shady Belle, you had been quite relaxed, confident even. This time, despite being carried by Dutch, you felt very self-conscious, and nervous.

Your hands subconsciously, gripped a little tighter around Dutch’s neck as heads turned to look at you. A few you recognised, from the night of your kidnap, but the rest, with the exception of Charles, you didn't know.

Dutch nuzzled into your neck

“Don’t be nervous, we’re all friends here,” he whispered.

You looked around, you weren't sure that half the people even knew who you were.

Right now you weren't that sure anymore. You had been a hostage, now you weren't sure. Dutch said he would look after you, even if your daddy paid. Which probably meant you weren't a hostage. You doubted however, you could just walk out of here if you wanted to. The question was, did you want to. You weren't really sure of that either.

  
“Attention everyone!” Dutch called out.

You were surprised how loud he was, you rested your head on his chest.

Dutch smiled, and gently rubbed his hand, across your thigh.

“This is Emmeline, she’s a little shy, and is also carrying an injury. Anyway, she’ll be joining us.”

You heard lots of chatter, and whispers, but you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

“She’ll be staying with me!” Dutch confirmed, “so if anyone has any problems, you talk to me first. I want you to make her very welcome.”

The chatter and whispers died down, and everyone seemed to be going back to what they were doing.

“I don’t think they like me,” you whimpered.

Dutch kissed your forehead, “of course they do, you just need to meet them.”

You shook your head, “I don't want to, I just want to stay with you.”

Dutch chuckled, “Ok stay with me for now, we’ll go and meet them together a bit later.”

  
Dutch walked over to a small table. You recognised Arthur, from when he carried you into the house. Also he was in the sitting room, the day that Charles brought you back.

Two other men you didn't recognise, but they recognised you.

“Hello Emmeline, how are you feeling? My names Josiah,” he held out his hand.

You put your hand out, expecting him to shake it, but he went to kiss it. You quickly snatched it back. You didn't want to get into trouble.

“I’m a good girl,” you whispered.

Dutch chuckled, “Yes you are sweetheart, you’re my good girl, aren’t you.”

you nodded.

Dutch brushed your cheek with the back of his hand, “It’s ok though Emmie, Josiah was just being friendly, so say hello nicely.”

“Hello Josiah,” you whispered.

Dutch sat down, and settled you on his lap.

“Hello Emmeline, I’m Hosea, I bandaged your leg! How’s it feeling.” He asked.

You smiled at him, he seemed nice. “Thank you Hosea, it a hurts a bit.”

Hosea nodded, “well make sure you tell someone, if its still hurting tomorrow wont you.”

You nodded, then looked over at Arthur.

“Hello Arthur,” you greeted, although he didn't get a smile.

Josiah chuckled, “I see young Arthur’s already made an impression!”

Arthur looked at Josiah and rolled his eyes.

“Shall we get on with it!” Arthur scoffed.

Josiah nodded. “So...” he began.

Before he could start, Hosea glanced at you.

“Why don't I take Emmeline, and find some food!”

He looked at Dutch, and raised his eyebrows.

Dutch smiled, “that's a good idea, you must be hungry Emmie. Hosea’ll find you some food, and then you can come back after.”

You pouted, but Dutch frowned at you.

“ok,” you whispered.

You were glad it was Hosea, you held your arms out to him, it felt kind of childish, but you couldn’t walk.

He chuckled, and took you from Dutch.

“sorry,” you whispered.

Hosea smiled, “Don't worry Emmeline, we’ll soon have you walking around again!”

Dutch watched you being carried away by Hosea. He did feel a bit bad, but he knew Hosea would look after you.

  
Dutch looked at Josiah, “come on then, fill us in. What's the plan?”

Josiah sat there and filled Dutch and Arthur in.

The plan was to send a letter to McKenzie telling him to put the money in a suitcase and leave it at Rhodes station.

Josiah and Mary-Beth, would catch a train from St. Denis to Rhodes. They would play the part of husband and wife. Mary-Beth would push a pram, which was why they needed to take the train.

Once they got to Rhodes, Josiah would quickly talk Alden, his contact there. If the money had been delivered, Josiah and Mary-Beth, would wander around Rhodes for a while, then return to the station. Alden would decant the money from the suitcase into the pram, and they would travel back to St. Denis by train.

Alden would then forward the suitcase, filled with old newspapers to Valentine.

If anyone was keeping tabs on someone walking out of the post office with the suitcase, then they would be none the wiser.

  
Dutch chuckled, “I like it. I guess when you and Mary-Beth take in the sights of Rhodes, you’ll be able to tell if the train station is being watched.”

Josiah nodded, “exactly.”

Arthur frowned, “and what if the money isn't there?”

Josiah chuckled, “Oh I don't think that will happen, I’ll put the photograph in with the letter!”

Dutch frowned, “Photograph? What photograph?”

Arthur sighed, “Josiah took a photograph of Emmeline, while the shackle was still round her ankle...covered in blood!”

Dutch closed his eyes and shook his head, “just don’t tell Hosea, he’s disgusted enough that we put a shackle on her to begin with.”

“Well to be frank, Dutch, I wasn’t too impressed myself!” Josiah scolded.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “don’t you start, what's done is done.”

Josiah stood up, I better get this letter sent so he gets it tonight, He’s to have the money at Rhodes, tomorrow by 3pm. I’ll come back in the morning to collect Mary-Beth, I’ll take her to the tailors in St. Denis and find her something fitting to wear. Until tomorrow gentlemen.”

He bowed with his usual flourish, and headed towards where the horses were hitched.

Dutch stood up, “sounds like Josiah has everything under control.”

Arthur sighed, “I hope so.” He didn't like the women going out on jobs like that, particularly Mary-Beth.

  
Dutch walked across camp, to where you were sitting.

You didn't see him, as you were talking to Hosea and Javier.

“So what made you run away, Chica? We’re not that bad are we?” Javier asked, grinning.

You tilted your head to one side, “I didn't mean to, but I looked out the window and saw a deer, I’ve never seen a real one before, so I snuck out to find it. But I did a really bad thing,” you admitted.

“Oh!” Javier exclaimed.

You took a mouthful of food, then continued.

“I took some money. I didn't take it all, just some in case I needed it. But then Charles found me!”

Charles, who was standing nearby, walked over.

“It was just as well I did, otherwise you might have been eaten by a bear.” he exclaimed.

Hosea frowned, “A bear! Emmeline, you were very lucky, you could have been killed.”

“I know, but I only ever saw a deer in a book, or at the picture show. I’ve never even been in a wood before. I didn't know that there were bears!” You explained.

Dutch walked up behind you chuckling.

When you saw him you smiled, “I was just telling Javier about the woods!” you explained.

Dutch sat next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. “you’ve really never been anywhere very much have you Emmie?”  
You shook your head, “Never been out of the city, before now. I just want to see everything.” you enthused.

Dutch kissed the top of your head, “and you will, sweetheart, but safely!”

You finished eating your food, then turned to look at Dutch.

“I didn't mean to be bad, I just never saw animals for real before. Daddy wouldn’t even let me have a puppy!”

Dutch smiled, “I know sweetheart, as soon as your healed, we’ll buy you a horse, much better than a puppy!”

You smiled, excitedly, “like yours?”

Hosea chuckled, “you don't want a horse like that, Emmeline!”

You frowned, “but he looks so beautiful!”

Dutch smiled, “we’ll see, maybe something a little calmer for your first horse.”

Hosea rolled his eyes, “I think some clothes might be a good idea, before a horse!”

“I don't need clothes,” you retorted, “I have some already!”

Dutch hummed, “I’m getting you new clothes, Emmie. The ones you have aren’t…Appropriate!”

You rubbed your eyes, and yawned, “I can just wear your clothes!”

Dutch chuckled, and stood up. He leant over and picked you up. You quickly put your arms around his neck.

“Don’t worry, I wont drop you, but I think you need some rest.”

He glanced at the others, “goodnight gentlemen!”

You leant into his chest. “can I come outside again tomorrow?”

Dutch nodded, as he carried you towards the house. “Yes, I should think so.”

You looked back towards where Hosea, Javier and Charles were sitting.

“I forgot to say good night,” you mumbled, and waved.

“Don't worry sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll be forgiven.” he smirked.

  
Dutch carried you upstairs and into the bedroom. The bedroom door was already open, and a glance at the bed you noticed all the blood was gone. To be fair, one look and you wouldn’t have known that anything had happened.

Dutch laid you on the bed, and started to remove his clothes. When he started to remove his shirt, you looked away, “wh...what are you doing!” you stuttered.

Dutch chuckled, “Emmie, sweetheart. Do you know who’s bedroom this is?”

You vigorously shook your head, trying not to look.

Dutch sat on the edge of the bed. “you haven't seen anyone naked before, have you?”

“N...no!” you mumbled.

He gently cupped your jaw in his hand, “look at me, I’m the same person as I am with clothes on.”

He didn’t force you to look, but you knew that was what he wanted.

You turned your head, slowly.

You gazed at his muscular torso, his stomach and chest, peppered with dark brown hair.

“Now,” he whispered, that's not so bad is it?”

He leant over and started to unbutton the shirt you were wearing.

“Wh...what...” you began.

“Its only fair, Emmie, and besides, I’ve seen you without clothes on!” he chuckled.

He unbuttoned the shirt, and gently slid it off your shoulders, leaving you naked. He then proceeded to undress.

You felt your face heating up, so you just made sure you didn't lower your eyes. Seeing Dutch bare chested was one thing, seeing the rest of him would be quite something else.

  
Dutch climbed onto the bed, he lay on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

He reached out his hand and gently stroked your face.

“Do you know Emmie, how beautiful you are?”

“No.” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Dutch smiled, “well you are.”

He leant in and pressed his lips to yours, his hand trailed down your shoulder, then down your arm.

You moaned, as his touch sent tremors through your body.

With your mouth slightly open, his tongue invaded your mouth, exploring you, tasting you. You leant into him, allowing his tongue to dominate yours.

You small hand, touched his chest. The muscles were like blocks of granite, you moved your hand across his chest.

He broke the kiss and grinned, seeing that you were becoming more confident with your nakedness and his.

“Is it ok? To touch your chest?” you asked, nervously.

Dutch nodded, and smiled.

“You’re so strong!” You exclaimed, somewhat awestruck.

Dutch gently swept a stray hair from your forehead.

“I have to be, Emmie. I lead a gang of outlaws, I have to be in control!” he purred.

You stared at him wide eyed.

He took you hand, and pressed his lips to the knuckles, before pinning it above your head.

“I like to be in control, Emmie.” he whispered. “total control!”

You swallowed hard, and didn't move.

He took your other hand, and placed it with the other one, holding them both with one hand.

Dutch smirked, then kissed your neck, then your collar bone. He stopped and looked at your face.

He place his other hand gently on your stomach.

The sensation of his touch surprised you, and you gasped and arched your back.

“I like to control the pleasure, and the pain,” he whispered. “shall I continue?”  
You nodded, and whimpered. It was the only noise you could make.

  
Dutch started to trace random shapes with his fingertips, on your stomach and sides, slowly moving further down, until his fingers reach the inside of your thigh.

He pressed his lips to your left nipple, sucking gently until a moan escaped your lips, he repeated with the right, then he gently kissed your stomach. His kisses following the trail of his fingers. Stopping every so often to see the expression on your face, as his fingers elicited little gasps, moans and tremors from your body.

“Do you like that Emmie?” he purred, questioningly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, as you nodded.

“words baby girl,” he purred.

“Y...yes sir,” you stuttered.

“Good girl,” he praised.

You felt the knot in your stomach, coiling tighter, the lower he went. A sensation you’d never felt before.

You gasped as his fingers travelled and entered your folds.

“Oh Emmie,” he purred, “have you been a naughty girl?”

You shook your head, “n...no sir!”

Dutch chuckled, as he gently massaged circles on your bud. “oh I think you have!”

You screamed, and arched your back.

“you like that, don't you?” Dutch purred.

You bucked your hips, wanting more.

Dutch pulled his finger away, “tell me what you want, Emmeline?”

“P...please, I...I need...” you stuttered, almost begging.

“Use your manners baby girl,” Dutch smirked.

“Please Dutch, touch me!” you begged.

“Who?” He smirked.

“Please, please sir...touch me.” you pleaded.

You felt his finger on your bud, firmer and faster this time.

“Good girl, Emmie.” he cooed.

Your back arched, you were almost there.

Dutch smirked, and slowed down, reducing the pressure.

“No...no, please...I need...”You begged.

“Emmie? Who do you belong to?” Dutch asked, humming questioningly.

You moaned, “please, you. I belong to you...”

“Good girl, Emmie, good girl. Now let it go, baby girl!”

Dutch increased the pressure, and speed.

You arched your back and screamed as the release pushed you over the edge.

  
Dutch licked his finger.

“Oh baby girl you taste so good.”

Dutch let go of your hands, you were pretty much still out of it, coming down from your high.

He gazed at your naked body, “sweet little Emmeline, I could take you now, but I won’t. Some day soon you’ll be begging for it,” he smirked, licking his lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, cradling your head with one hand, and gently caressing your back with the other.

You rested your head on his chest. Dutch kissed the top of your head, “such a good girl for me.” he purred.

“Yours, just yours,” you moaned, as exhaustion took you.


	7. Not Quite Right

Josiah Trelawny walked into the saloon in St. Denis. He hadn't told Dutch, but he'd decided on a change of plan. Something didn't sit right with this whole McKenzie/Cornwall deal. Why would he dress you in such revealing clothes, if he'd already made a deal with Leviticus Cornwall. More to the point, how could he afford to buy such expensive Italian clothes, when he couldn't even afford decent security.

As Josiah approached the bar, the bartender waved him a greeting, and poured him a glass of scotch whiskey.

"Thank you, Samuel," Josiah beamed. This was his regular haunt, and the bartender knew him quite well.

"Mr Trelawny, how are you this evening, can I get you anything else?" He asked.

Josiah smiled, "well as a matter of fact Samuel, there might be something else," he hesitated. "I'm after a little information. What can you tell me about the businessman, Jonas McKenzie?"

Samuel leaned a little closer to Josiah.

"From what I've heard Mr. Trelawny, he's not much of a businessman!" He whispered.

"Oh really!" Josiah slid some money across the counter, "tell me more!"

An hour later, Josiah was standing across the street from the McKenzie residence. He watched as a young street kid, delivered the letter, and the photograph of Emmeline in bloody shackles.

If the information he had gleaned from Samuel was true, then Jonas McKenzie would soon be in touch with his backer.

The truth of the matter was, Jonas McKenzie didn't actually have any money. It was all a front.

Of course he'd had money at one point, but he'd made a few bad decisions, lost pretty much everything. By rights he should have been in debtors prison. He wasn't and he had his daughter to thank for that. He didn't really think his daughter would thank him much at all if she'd known what he was doing.

Josiah watched and waited. After not more than a few minutes, the boy, who had been told to wait, ran off down the street.

Josiah had a good idea where he was going. He waited patiently. He didn't have to wait long, before a fancy carriage drew up outside the residence.

McKenzie came out the front door of his house, gesticulating madly with his arms.

Josiah peered through his binoculars, as the carriage door opened.

"Angelo Bronte!" he muttered under his breath.

The man disappeared inside. He hadn't come alone, and two of his men waited outside the front door, with two more accompanying Bronte and McKenzie into the house.

Josiah waited patiently. Whatever was going on in the house, probably wouldn't take long. One thing he did know, Bronte would be pissed. The question was, would he be pissed enough to pay two hundred thousand dollars. Only time would tell.

As he suspected, it didn't take long for the meeting between the two men to conclude. Bronte said something to one of his men, then he returned to the carriage, and the rest of the men, returned with him.

Within a few minutes of the carriage leaving the McKenzie residence, the man left behind exited from the back of the building, riding a horse.

Josiah whistled for his horse, and followed at a discreet distance.

The man headed to Rhodes. Josiah figured, that he wouldn't need Mary-Beth tomorrow. He was pretty sure that there would be no money left at Rhodes station.

On arrival at Rhodes, Josiah watched at the thug of Bronte's headed into the post office. Josiah, hitched his horse, and watched from the General Store.

The man wasn't in the post office for long, he left as quickly as he had arrived, heading in the direction of St. Denis.

Josiah did wonder if Bronte would send more men tomorrow, when the pickup was scheduled for.

Once the man had disappeared out of town, Josiah headed for the post office. He was glad to see that Alden was behind the counter. He strolled nonchalantly up to the window.

Alden, smiled when he saw Josiah, and leant towards him.

"Josiah, I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you today!" He whispered.

Josiah smiled, "I'm not after anything today, other than any mail... for Tacitus Kilgore."

Alden frowned, "just had something dropped off!"

He rummaged under the counter, and handed Josiah and Envelope.

"Thank you Alden, until next time!" Josiah smiled, and put the envelope in his coat pocket.

Josiah headed for the parlour house. He would head back to Shady Belle, first thing in the morning.

Dutch had the best night sleep he had in ages. Whether it was because he had shared his bed with someone, he wasn't sure. He'd never slept that well with Molly next to him, But you? He had found the warmth of you body next to him comforting. That was until he woke, just after sunrise.

When he woke, he felt as though something wasn't quite right. His arms were still wrapped around you, but something felt wrong.

When he woke completely, he realised what it was.

Dutch opened his eyes, and looked at you. He had felt it first. Your skin was cold and clammy. When he looked at your face, your hair was damp and stuck to your skin.

"Emmie," he whispered, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand.

You groaned slightly.

Dutch pulled back the covers, and looked down at your leg.

"Oh fuck," he hissed.

The bandage that Hosea had wrapped around your ankle, was discoloured and damp.

He quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed his trousers and a shirt. The shirt that you had been wearing, he started to dress you in.

You groaned, you eyelids fluttering open, "Hurts," you groaned.

Dutch gently stroked your face, "I know sweetheart, just hang on in there," he whispered.

After pulling on his boots, Dutch rushed out of the bedroom, through the sitting room and down the stairs. He found Hosea, sitting on the porch, drinking coffee. He was grateful that Hosea was an early riser.

"Hosea," Dutch yelled, "its Emmeline, there's something wrong with her leg, and she's running a fever!"

Hosea immediately stood up, "let me get some supplies, and I'll come and take a look."

Dutch nodded, and returned to the bedroom, not bothering to wait for Hosea. He knew he would return as soon as he could.

When Dutch returned to the bedroom, you were still drifting in and out of sleep. Not really moving, just groaning.

He didn't have to wait long for Hosea to join him. When he walked in the room, and saw the state you were in, his face fell.

He looked at the bandage on your ankle. It had been clean last night. This morning it was a dark yellow colour. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, he recoiled at the putrid odour, emanating from the bandage.

As gently as he could, he started to remove it. You let out a loud moan, which turned into a cry.

Dutch wrapped his arm around you, and stroked your face, trying to sooth you, whilst Hosea removed the bandage.

Hosea looked at Dutch, "This isn't good! The ankle is infected. I'm going to need to flush it out. Its going to hurt, but if I don't do it, she may lose her foot!"

Dutch nodded, "do what you have to. We can't leave her like this!"

Hosea, left the room and headed off to get help, and the supplies he needed.

Dutch stroked your face, "Emmie, I want you to listen to me, sweetheart."

Your breathing was hard and heavy, tears still cascading down your cheeks. Your leg hurt, and had hurt even more when Hosea had removed the bandage.

"Pl...Please don't let him hurt me," you begged, "I promise, I'll be good."

Dutch pressed his lips to your temple.

"Its not about being good or bad, Emmie. You're not well, and we have to fix that."

Dutch tried to explain.

You shook your head, "you only hurt me when I'm bad, like when I stole your money. I said I was sorry, please don't punish me!" you pleaded.

Dutch sighed, gently sweeping the damp hair away from your face.

"Its not a punishment, I promise you. You need to be brave, be a good girl for me, can you do that?"

You shook your head, "please let me go home," you sobbed "I want to be with my daddy."

Dutch wrapped his arm around you, and held you to his chest, gently rubbing your back.

"This is your home now sweetheart," he whispered.

"Daddy's here," he soothed

You sobbed harder, knowing that something bad was going to happen. Knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop it.


	8. A Pawn

It was still quite early when Josiah Trelawny rode into the camp at Shady Belle. He waved at Bill, who was on guard duty, as he headed towards the house.

He was quite surprised to see so much activity so early in the morning. Usually half the camp were nursing hangovers, from the night before, or having a quiet coffee by the main campfire.

As Josiah hitched his horse, he saw Hosea running around collecting supplies. It wasn't unusual to see Susan chivvying people up, but not this early in the morning.

  
Josiah walked over to Hosea, frowning slightly.

“Morning!” he beamed, “what's going on?”

Hosea shook his head, “Emmeline’s got a fever. Its not looking good, she could lose her foot if we don't hurry!”

Josiah glanced around the camp. Not seeing Dutch, he guessed he must be looking after you.

“Where’s Arthur?” he asked.

Hosea shrugged, “probably still in his room, if you’ve got nothing better to do, you could rouse him, I’m probably gonna need his help.”

Josiah nodded, and headed into the house.

  
Josiah knocked on the door of Arthurs room. A muffled voice yelled to come in, so he opened the door and peered inside.

Arthur was looking at himself in the mirror, trying to decide whether he needed to shave.

“Staring at yourself wont make you any better looking dear boy!” Josiah quipped.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “what brings you here so early?”

Josiah frowned, “apparently Emmeline has a fever. Hosea says he’s going to need your help, sounds like her leg is infected...” he hesitated, “I may need to borrow your camera again, Arthur.”

Arthur shook his head, “doesn't the poor kid have it bad enough, without you taking photographs of it!”

Josiah hummed, and scratched his head, “we may need a little more leverage than I thought, more unpleasant pictures, may do the trick.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and handed the camera to Josiah. “Just don’t tell Hosea or Dutch.”

  
Dutch sat on the edge of the bed, stroking your face.

“Whatever happens Emmie, I’ll be here, I’ll be with you,” Dutch soothed.

You let out another sob, “you’re gonna let him hurt me, aren’t you?”

Dutch pressed his lips to your forehead, in a tender kiss. He didn't answer. He had no intention of lying to you, but he wasn't sure you could handle the truth. He knew exactly what Hosea was going to do, he just hoped the pain would be too much, and that you would pass out.

  
Hosea entered the bedroom, closely followed by Javier and Charles. Arthur and Josiah followed them in.

Susan wasn’t far behind. She headed immediately to the fireplace in the bedroom, and lit a fire.

Hosea gestured for the others to put down the supplies they were carrying, close to the bottom of the bed.

  
You watched as they all came into the bedroom. If you were scared before, you were terrified now.

Dutch held your hands rubbing your knuckles with his thumbs.

You didn't see the nod that Hosea had given him. Even if you had, there wouldn’t have been anything you could have done. Before you knew what was happening, Dutch had held your arms above your head. You felt hands on your legs, and another across your stomach, holding you in place, unable to move.

You let out a sob, when you tried to move and found you couldn’t.

“P...please don’t… Make them stop!” you begged, as tears streamed down your face, then you let out a scream.

  
Hosea, sliced into your leg with a knife that had been sterilised in boiling water. It allowed the poison contained within it to burst free. He quickly followed this with hot water, mixed with whiskey, poured into the wound, flushing out any of the rust from the ancient shackles, that had caused the infection. He tried to ignore your screams and sobs, but glanced at you every so often.

The men that held you, stopped you from moving, even though you strained against there hold.

You couldn’t even speak, after the first few seconds, and after the third flush of hot water and whiskey you were barely able to scream. Your mouth wide open, your screams were silent, as though someone had turned the volume down.

Josiah, holding Arthur’s camera, carried on taking pictures, some of a hand holding the knife as it sliced into your leg. Others of your tormented face, or of the male hands holding you fast.

Dutch’s hands had moved, so one hand held your hands firmly above your head, whilst the other stroked your face.

“Its gonna be ok, Emmie. Daddy’s here,” he whispered.

Arthur who was holding your torso, glanced at Dutch a couple of times, frowning slightly. Either Dutch wasn’t bothered, or didn’t notice the disparaging looks that Arthur was giving him. Everyone else was too focussed on the matter in hand.

  
Once Hosea had finished flushing out the wound, for a few moments your screams turned back into sobs, you breath coming in gasps.

With another nod from Hosea, Dutch covered your eyes with his free hand.

You tried to thrash your head from side to side, so you could see what was going on, but Dutch had put just enough pressure on, so you could hardly move it at all.

Susan had handed Hosea another knife, glowing white hot this time, so that he could cauterize the wound.

When the blade touched the wound on your leg, the sound of heated metal, on fluid caused a hiss. Not that anyone could hear it, as you let out a blood curdling shriek that could have woken the dead. Finally, Dutch’s hopes for you were realised, and you passed out.

Happy that the wound had been cauterized sufficiently, Hosea proceeded to stitch it. Thankful that you were no longer conscious. Primarily because he hated the idea of causing you pain, but the lack of screaming enabled him to focus his concentration.

Once this was done, he applied clean bandages to your leg.

  
“Ok,” Hosea sighed, “you can let her go.”

Javier and Charles let go of your legs, the strain on their faces palpable.

Arthur released his grip on your torso, and followed the others silently out of the room.

Dutch wrapped one arm around your body, the other cradled the back of your head as he pressed your body to his chest.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he whispered,, “but it had to be done.”

You didn’t hear his apology, in your unconscious state. Your breathing shallow, as your body dealt with the pain that had been inflicted.

  
Josiah watched from the doorway. He was beginning to wonder if the money was even important anymore. He pulled the envelope from his pocket that he had collected from Rhodes.

“Dutch?” he spoke quietly, the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you.

Dutch looked up, and sighed, “Josiah! Have you come to take Mary-Beth to St. Denis?”

Josiah shook his head, “not exactly! I need to have a word with you regarding Emmeline!”

Dutch glanced at your sleeping form, then glanced up at Josiah, motioning to the bed, for Josiah to sit.

  
Josiah sat on the edge of the bed, “They won’t be bringing the money to Rhodes.” He stated, bluntly.

Dutch frowned, “doesn’t he even care about his daughter,” he hissed angrily, wary of waking you.

Josiah sighed, “I doubt it, besides he’s broke. His daughter is just a pawn in a bigger plot!”

Dutch gently laid you back down on the bed, stroking your face. He glanced back at Josiah

“Explain!” he growled.

“Angelo Bronte,” Josiah began, “that's where the fancy Italian clothes came from. The price for bailing out McKenzie and stopping him from ending up in debtors prison...”Josiah hesitated, “his daughter!”

Dutch shook his head, “what about Cornwall and the twenty percent?”

Josiah narrowed his eyes, “Oh Bronte is a crook, albeit a rich and clever one. That was his idea, marry Emmeline off to Cornwall. Once they’re wed, his thugs kill Cornwall. Emmeline gets his estate, but she’s not an adult, so control of it goes to her father. Then he comes in and marries the young woman. He gets Emmeline, and Cornwall Kerosene and Tar. Which is all he really wanted in the first place. Daddy gets to keep twenty percent of the business. Everyone is happy!”

Josiah glanced at Emmeline, “except, perhaps for poor Emmeline.”

Dutch’s face turned red and his eyes narrowed, “no one is getting Emmeline!” He growled.

Josiah looked intently at Dutch, “she’s not just a hostage anymore, is she?” He questioned.

Dutch glared at Josiah, “No, Josiah. She’s mine!”


	9. Daddy

Dutch didn't really want to leave you, but he figured you wouldn’t wake, and there was business to discuss.

He sat in the sitting room, adjacent to the bedroom, with Josiah, Hosea and Arthur.

“So,” he began, “they think we’re stupid enough to bring Emmeline into St. Denis in exchange for the money!”

Josiah nodded, “evidently!”

Dutch hummed, “I’m guessing that Bronte knows we have Emmeline, but he doesn’t know we’re aware of his connections to McKenzie? Correct?”

Josiah nodded again, “as far as they know, we’ll be expecting McKenzie to pay.”

“Now would probably be a good time to use those photographs then!” Dutch suggested.

Josiah glanced at Arthur, whilst Hosea frowned, looking slightly perplexed.

“You know about...” Josiah began, slightly flustered.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “of course I know! I may have been slightly distracted this morning, but I’m not stupid!”

“Oh...Arthur said...” Josiah stuttered slightly.

Dutch chuckled, “I’ve no doubt what Arthur said! Don’t tell me or Hosea!”

“Tell me what?” Hosea interjected, “would someone mind telling me what’s going on.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Josiah took some pictures this morning, to use as leverage!”

Hosea glared at Josiah, but said nothing. He found the whole idea of taking pictures of you, quite unsavoury. He did however realise that given the situation, they may come in useful.

“I’ll arrange for another letter, along with these photo’s,” Josiah suggested.

“I think you need to be a little less subtle, Josiah. Tell him that unless the money is forthcoming, I will send his daughter back to him a piece at a time!” Dutch growled.

Hosea blanched, “you don’t mean that Dutch...do you?”

Dutch chuckled, “of course not, Hosea. You really think I would hurt a hair on that little girls head?”

Hosea frowned, “you have already!”

Dutch rolled his eyes and shook his head, “That, Hosea, was an accident,” Dutch retorted.

“Beating her for stealing that money wasn’t!” Arthur mumbled.

Dutch stood up, folding his arms across his chest, “enough! That young lady is in my care, I won’t have her behaving like a delinquent, but nor will I hurt her, if it can be avoided!” he snapped.

“Now,” Dutch added calmly, “I suggest you go about your business, I’m going to check on Emmeline!”

Dutch walked into the bedroom. You still lay there, in the same position he had left you, before he left the room.

He sat on the edge of the bed, gently stroking your face. You didn't move, nor make a sound. Putting his hand behind your back, he gently sat you up, and removed the shirt he had put on you that morning. You didn't wake, so he laid you back down.

Dutch watched your chest rise and fall. Your breathing was now regular.

He slowly took off his own shirt, and climbed onto the bed. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you into his chest. Your back pressed against his chest. He buried his face in your soft golden locks, inhaling your scent.

“Your so fucking perfect. If he’s laid one hand on you baby girl, I’ll kill him,” he whispered in your ear.

You slept on, completely oblivious to the man who had wrapped his arms around your naked body.

Josiah stood across the street from the McKenzie residence. To say he had a feeling of deja vous was an understatement. He had a feeling that whatever pictures your father saw of you, even the threat of you coming back a piece at a time, wouldn't sway him. Wouldn’t make him insist to Bronte that he pay the ransom. Josiah felt more than sorry for you. Mainly because to your father you were just an asset. If Angelo Bronte decided you weren’t worth the trouble, then that asset would be dispensable.

His only hope was that you weren't just some passing fancy for Dutch. Like the numerous passing fancies he’d had since Annabelle. The other problem was that if the money from McKenzie wasn’t forth coming, where would they go from here. This was almost like the last chance saloon.

He watched as the street kid knocked on the door. It was a different kid this time, a girl. He couldn't risk finding another lad. He knew that there were plenty of kids off the streets that were in the employ of Bronte. It would only be a matter of time before his cover was blown, if he wasn’t careful.

He chuckled as the girl knocked on the door, shoved the envelope in the hands of the maid, and legged it.

Josiah didn't hang around. The threatening letter this time should be enough. Time would tell, if a suitcase of money was going to turn-up in Rhodes. If it didn't, he wasn't sure what Dutch would do next.

Your eyelids fluttered as you drifted into wakefulness. It took you a few moments to process where you were.

Feeling the arms wrapped around you, and the warm body pressed against your own, should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. You started to tremble, and wriggled, trying to break free from his arms. The arms just held you tighter.

You winced, the pain in your leg was now just a dull throb, compared the agony from before.

“Sshh baby girl, it’s ok. Your safe.” Dutch whispered, nuzzling your neck.

All the things he had said and all the things he had made you say, echoed in your head;

“ _I like to control the pleasure, and the pain.”_

“ _you. I belong to you.”_

“ _This is your home now sweetheart.”_

“ _Daddy’s here.”_

“Pl...Please...don’t hurt me, let me go!” you begged.

Dutch’s fingers gently traced random patterns along your naked side. His other hand moved cupping the side of your face.

“Its ok Emmie, no ones gonna hurt you,” he whispered.

His deep baritone voice and a soothing, almost hypnotising quality, and for a moment it calmed you, until a twinge of pain in your leg, snapped you back to reality.

“You did!” you sobbed, “you hurt me, you let them hurt me!”

You felt his hands move away from you, his arms no longer wrapped around you, the warmth of his chest gone from your back.

You thought it would make you feel better. It didn't, it made you feel empty and alone.

You covered your face with your hands and sobbed a little harder.

You had been betrayed by your parents, and hurt by the person you had begun to trust.

“I wish the bear had killed me,” you sobbed.

Suddenly you felt firm hands on your shoulders, turning you over, so that you were facing him.

You winced slightly, the movement of your body, causing you leg to throb.

Dutch gently removed your hands from your face, and held your face in his hands.

“Don’t you ever say anything like that again, Emmie!” he scolded, gently. “Don’t you even think it!”

He gently wiped the tears away with his thumbs, only for more to escape from your eyes and trickle down your cheeks.

“Everyone hurts me!” you sobbed, “my mummy, my daddy, you and your friends!”

Dutch pressed his lips to your forehead, kissing you softly.

“No baby girl, we didn't want to hurt you, but we had no choice,” he whispered.

Dutch gently placed on hand on your back, the other cupping the back of your head. He gently pulled you into his chest, and kissed the top of your head.

“Your parents don't love you, not like I...we do. They let you down Emmie, and I know that hurts. I’ll never let you down. Always remember that.”

You gently rested your hands on his chest, the warmth of his body and his gentle words providing comfort.

“Daddy will always love his brave little angel,” Dutch cooed, “you trust me, don't you angel?”

His hand gently stroked your back, fingers gliding along your spine, causing your back to arch into his touch.

You closed your eyes, inhaling his scent. What choice did you have? You couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t even stand, let alone try and run again. Besides when he held you like this, you felt warm, safe.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Yes?” Dutch questioned, his fingers sliding lower, as his hands gently caressing the cheeks of your perfectly rounded bottom.

Your breath hitched in your throat, remembering the spanking you had received.

“Yes…D...Daddy,” you stuttered.

Dutch smirked, and kissed the top of your head, his hand gliding upwards again, his fingers gently making random patterns on your lower back.

A noise erupted from you, half moan, half whimper.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

“Daddy’s gonna look after you now,” he purred.


	10. O'Driscolls

Dutch held you, gently caressing your naked skin, until you drifted off to sleep. He wanted to do so much more, but he didn’t. After the trauma you had experienced, he needed to be sure that you fully trusted him. Besides, he could still see how tender your leg was. You didn't think he’d noticed you wincing, even with the slightest movement, but he did. He also knew at some point Hosea would need to check the wound. You were so innocent and naive, you would likely be terrified all over again, unless you trusted him completely.

Once Dutch was sure you were sleeping, he gently laid you back on the bed, covering you with a blanket. He quietly left the room. He needed to talk to Susan about finding you some clothes. He had no intention of allowing you to wear the clothes that Bronte had bought for you.

  
Dutch stepped out of the house and headed towards Susan’s tent. He just needed to get you some temporary clothes. Once this was all over, he would take you, and buy you the best clothes that money could buy. Not like the ones that Bronte had bought you, but classy. Then everyone would leave this godforsaken swamp. Travel west, or abroad, Europe, or maybe the carribean.

Dutch was snapped out of his daydream by a scream.

He looked towards the main entrance to see a horse walking in.

Dutch looked and looked again, “what the fuck!” he hissed.

“O’Driscolls!” Bill screamed, “take cover!”

  
You woke suddenly to the sound of screams and gunshots. You froze, pulling the blanket up to your neck. What was going on? You couldn’t even get out of the bed to look. You daren’t try and stand, let alone walk.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you saw the door opening. That was short lived, when a stranger walked in the door. His straggly grey hair hung down to his shoulder, his face was covered by a grey stubble.

“W...who are you?” you stuttered.

He chuckled, “who I am don’t matter princess, all you need to know is I’m taking you home!”

You stared in horror, “No! Help!” you screamed.

“’fraid that ain’t gonna happen, seems like ol’ Dutch is too busy with my boys to worry about you,” he chuckled, “your lucky princess, if I wasn’t bein’ paid, I’d fuck you just to spite him!”

You carried on screaming as he walked towards you. Without another word his fist collided with your jaw. There were no stars, everything just went black.

  
The firefight was over not long after it started. The O’Driscolls turned tail and ran. Dutch quickly survey the area, there were no casualties, except for poor Kieran, who’s decapitated body had arrived on the back of the horse. As soon as the shooting had started, the horse bolted, leaving Kieran on the ground.

“Javier, Micah, go bury the poor kid somewhere, I need to check on Emmeline,” Dutch sighed.

Dutch rushed back to the house, he hoped you hadn’t been too frightened. He was thankful you couldn’t walk, the last thing he wanted was for you to run into the shooting.

  
As Dutch rushed into the bedroom, panic welled within him, seeing the room empty.

He rushed over to the bed, and was horrified to find spots of blood on the bed, the blanket was missing.

“Fucking Colm!” he growled.

Dutch ran out onto the balcony.

“Charles!” he screamed, “get up here now!”

Charles came running into the sitting room, closely followed by Arthur.

“She’s gone, they’ve taken her,” Dutch growled, “I need you to find her, like last time.”

Charles nodded, and quickly headed into the bedroom, then back out into the sitting room then down the stairs.

Dutch stared at Arthur, “it was a distraction, Kieran, the O’Driscolls. This has gotta be Colm!”

Arthur frowned, “Why? Why would he do that? How would he know we even had her?”

Dutch dragged his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know son, but I have to get her back!”

  
The first thing you noticed when you woke was pain, and the taste of blood. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything. The man who had hit you, had also now tied you up and gagged you.

You were moving, albeit slowly and you could could hear the noise of water. You must be on a boat.

You didn't struggle or try to cry out. You knew from when Dutch kidnapped you, that it would only result in more pain or discomfort. You must have done something, because your new kidnapper realised you were awake.

“So have you decided to behave yourself, princess.” he chuckled.

You gently nodded your head.

He laughed again, but didn't say anything else.

  
Before long the boat came to a sudden halt with a thud.

You heard voices in the distance. Then you were being carried.

You tried to make out what they were saying, but you couldn’t understand most of it. Probably because it was drowned out by the noise of your captors boots on gravel. All you could hear was a crunch, crunch, crunch.

The crunch soon changed to a click, and the atmosphere felt warmer. You must be inside.

Then you weren’t being carried, as you felt yourself falling.

The landing wasn't soft. Your body hit something cold and hard, and you cried out.

“Careful you idiot, he doesn't want her damaged!”

Your captor chuckled, “bit late for that, now where's my money, we had a deal.”

  
“Mr Colm O’Driscoll!” You recognised the voice, but you couldn't quite place it.

“Mr Bronte, how about you pay up, then I’ll be on my way,” Colm O’ Driscoll hissed.

You felt a hand touch your face, you flinched and tried to move away.

“You’ve damaged my goods, Mr O’Driscoll,” Angelo Bronte growled.

Colm O’Driscoll rolled his eyes, “your goods wouldn’t shut the fuck up!”

“Take her upstairs, Mario,” Bronte commanded, “whilst I deal with Mr O’Driscoll.”

You felt yourself being lifted again, gently this time, as you were carried away from the noise. You realised now who the man was. He was a friend of your fathers, the man was always visiting. Bringing you the clothes which Dutch hated so much.

  
The man called Mario gently placed you on the bed, he removed the blindfold and the gag. You blinked, trying to adjust to the light. It was at this point you realised that the blanket you had been wrapped in was gone. You rolled onto your stomach, trying to shield yourself from the stranger, who was staring at you.

“bellissima!” He purred.

You watched as he walked over to a dresser. He pulled out a nightdress, identical to the one that you had been wearing the night you had been taken by Dutch.

He laid it on the bed, and pulled out a knife, slicing through the ropes that bound your hands.

“Here, principessa. Put this on,” he commanded.

You quickly grabbed the nightdress and put it on. You were slightly surprised that it was a perfect fit.

He quickly grabbed your wrists and retied them behind your back.

“Sorry Tesoro, but I have my orders,” he whispered.

You watched as he walked out the door.

As soon as he was gone, you pulled at the bindings on your wrist, only managing to chafe your wrists on the rough rope. You let out a sob, and buried your face in the pillow.

Why you, why did so many people want you. The realisation suddenly came to you. You were nothing more than goods. You were exactly as Mr Bronte had described you.

  
Charles and Arthur returned to Shady Belle. Arthur had gone with Charles as he tracked your departure from the old plantation house. Dutch had been right, the raid on the house had been a distraction. They couldnt guarantee it was Colm that had taken you, but Charles had confirmed that it was a man, who he had tracked. The trail had stopped at a jetty close to the old Braithwaite house. He could only assume that where ever they had taken you, had been by boat.

Dutch nodded thoughtfully, his calmness belying the internal worry that was raging inside him.

“Thank you Charles. Arthur, get John, Lenny and Bill. I need to call in a favour, and we have a call to make!”

  
The door to the bedroom where you were currently being kept, swung open with a clatter, making you jump.

You turned your head to look. It wasn’t the man called Mario, It was Angelo Bronte. He glared at you angrily.

“Have you any idea how much trouble you’ve caused!” he hissed.

You stared at him speechlessly, which seemed to make him angrier.

He sat on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably close.

“What where you doing in Dutch Van Der Linde’s bed, naked?” He growled.

You stared at him, what was it to him? Why did he need to know?

“W..why am I here?” You whispered, questioningly.

Bronte sneered, then laughed mirthlessly. “Why? Because I own you, Emmeline!”

He grabbed your cheeks and squeezed them hard.

“So tell me, has he corrupted my you? Have you become his whore?” he growled.

Tears began to pool in your eyes, your hear beat wildly in your chest.

“You stupid Bitch!” he growled, as his hand made contact with your face, slapping it hard.

He stood up, “you better to pray to god that Cornwall still wants you for his wife!” he hissed, as he stormed out of the room.

Tears started to flow down your cheeks, as you started to sob. What was going to happen to you now.


	11. Rescue

Dutch rode towards the small settlement of Lagras, closely followed by Arthur, John, Bill and Lenny. He didn't speak much. He only had one thing on his mind, getting you back.

“Where exactly are we goin’?” Arthur asked, not liking being kept in the dark.

Dutch slowed The Count down as they approached the cluster of wooden cabins on the edge of the swamp.

“There’s only one house that has its own boathouse, and backs onto the River. That's the house belonging to Angelo Bronte. Everything we know about that greasy bastard, makes me think he’s the one that has my Emmie.” Dutch hesitated, “you know as well as I do, how I feel about people stealing what's mine!”

Arthur sighed, “How the hell are we gonna get into his house, you know how heavily protected he is?”

Dutch chuckled, “we, son, will have the element of surprise!”

  
Dutch hitched the count, and walked towards a cabin, right on the edge of the swamp. Next to it was a small jetty.

“Thomas!” Dutch waved to a dark skinned man, leaning on the edge of the jetty.

“Mr Dutch!” The man responded.

“Thomas, I’ve come to call in that favour. I need to make a house call!”

Thomas nodded, “I’m happy to help. What’s he done this time?”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “he’s stolen something of mine, something very precious.”

Thomas walked to the edge of the jetty, where a boat was moored.

“Come along then, lets go.”

  
The boat slid silently through the water, the only light, the moon reflecting on the river, and the lights of St. Denis in the distance.

The closer the boat came to the city, the more certain Dutch was that you were in the hands of Angelo Bronte. It was like some invisible cord was drawing him to you.

Thomas steered the boat silently to the jetty.

Thomas waited in the boat while the five men crept towards the house. They quickly dispensed with the guards out the back, but the sound of gunfire caused all hell to break loose, as more men came running out the back, only to be mown down in a hail of bullets.

“quickly deal with any others, then first priority is Emmeline, then we find Bronte. If anyone finds her before I do, let me know,” Dutch commanded.

The men nodded and proceeded to sweep through the house.

  
You woke up in panic to the sound of gunshots. You had no idea what was going on. The last thing on your mind was that you were about to be rescued. Your first though was self preservation.

With that in mind, you managed to sit on the edge of the bed, even though your hands were still bound behind your back. You slid off the bed, and onto the floor, allowing your good leg to take the weight. You winced as you sat your self on the floor, and hid by the side of the bed. Glancing down at your leg, you noticed blood on the outside of the bandage. You wondered if that was recent, or if it had happened when you’d been dragged from Dutch’s camp. You guessed it didn’t matter. Right now you just wanted to stop yourself from being killed.

  
You cringed as the sound of footsteps came closer, hearing doors being thrown open, and every so often a gunshot. You pushed your back against the edge of the bed, and squeezed your eyes closed. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. It felt like any moment it might explode.

Then bedroom door crashed open, you tried your best to keep quiet, but you couldn’t help when a whimper escaped from your lips.

  
You couldn’t help but scream when an arm wrapped around your neck, and dragged you away from the bed. As your bandaged leg knocked against the wooden floor, you cried out.

“Be quiet, Princepessa, if you want to live,” he growled.

You recognised his voice, the man who had put you in the bedroom, made you put on the nightdress, and tied you up.

He held a gun, and you felt the barrel against your temple.

“Your my ticket out of here,” he hissed.

You couldn't help yourself, you started to cry.

His arm tightened around your neck, as he shook you.

“I said shut the fuck up, bitch!”

His attention was distracted from the door for a split second, at the same moment Dutch came flying into the room, after hearing your screams.

He raised his gun, and fired. The bullet hit the Italian, right between the eyes.

You let out a scream, as you captor dropped to the floor beside you.

Dutch vaulted the bed, wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s ok Emmie, it’s all over sweetheart,” he soothed.

Tears erupted from your eyes.

“Daddy! You...you came for me!” You sobbed.

Dutch pressed a kiss to your forehead, before pulling the knife from his belt and cutting the ropes which bound your wrists.

“Of course I came for you angel, why wouldn’t I?” he whispered.

Your tears carried on falling, sobs racking your body.

“He...he said...He said I was your whore!” you cried.

Dutch knelt in front of you, he gently touched your face, taking in your bruised eye, your split lip and the red mark on your cheek.

“Did he do this?” Dutch growled.

You nodded, “him and the other man, the one that took me, I screamed but no one came...and I hurt my leg again,” you wailed.

Dutch picked you up bridle style, “Don’t worry, we’ll soon fix you up, sweetheart, now lets go home.”

  
As Dutch carried you from the bedroom, John came running.

“We found him, what do you want to do?” John asked.

“Bring him,” Dutch growled, “I have unfinished business!”

You wrapped your arms around Dutch’s neck, as he carried you down the stairs. As he carried you towards the back entrance, you saw Arthur carrying Angelo Bronte, slung over his shoulder.

“Quickly, the law is on its way,” Lenny yelled.

You heard more gunshots, so you closed your eyes, and buried your face in Dutch’s shoulder.

“Its ok sweetheart, just hold tight,” he whispered, as he started to run towards the dock.

John, Bill and Lenny, carried on shooting, until eventually you couldn’t hear anymore gunshots. Then you were in the boat. You opened your eyes, to see the house and the lights of St. Denis, disappearing in the distance.

Dutch sat in the boat, with you sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His arms were wrapped around the front of you. You leant your head against his shoulder.

“Daddy,” you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Dutch kissed the top of your head, “Sorry? What for sweetheart.”

“He made me wear this, I know you don't like it, when I wear his stuff,” you sniffled.

Dutch chuckled, “don’t you worry about that baby girl, I’m gonna buy you some new clothes.”

  
As the boat headed towards the swamps, Dutch looked over at Arthur.

“I need you to look after Emmie for me, son.”

Arthur nodded, “Come here Emmie.”

You frowned, and looked up at Dutch,“what's happening daddy?”

Dutch smiled, “go sit with Arthur, I have to deal with a dangerous animal.”

You gasped, “more dangerous than an alligator or a bear?”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “infinitely more dangerous than both of those, sweetheart,” He whispered.

  
Arthur held you close, so that your head was buried in his chest. He was pretty sure he knew what was going to happen next, and neither he nor Dutch wanted you to see.

Dutch grabbed Bronte by the throat.

“No one, I repeat no one steals my things, or lays a hand on my little girl,” he growled, before tipping the Italian boss into the swamp.

John stared at him, “was that really necessary?”

Dutch glared at him, “Entirely, like I said, no one lays a hand on my little girl!”

  
After you heard the splash, you couldn’t help but turn around.

“did something fall in the water?” you gasped.

Dutch gently stroked your face, “yes sweetheart, can’t have dangerous animals near my baby girl now, can I?”

you shook your head, “will...will the alligators eat it?” you asked, you eyes wide.

Dutch nodded, “I should think they will.”

  
Once the boat reached Lagras, Dutch got out and Arthur passed you to him.

Your hands wrapped around his neck. You liked Arthur, but it wasn't the same. You felt safe now with Dutch, he had found you, and rescued you.

Dutch lifted you up onto the Count, then mounted up himself. He cradled you in one arm, and your head rested on his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

The motion of the horse, gently rocking you, you drifted off to sleep.

  
Arthur, riding next to Dutch looked at you asleep in his arms.

“Dutch? Can I ask you something,” he hesitated, “about Emmeline?”

Dutch frowned, but nodded none the less.

“Well, I noticed she’s callin’ you Daddy, but its not like you’re treating her like a daughter?”

Dutch chuckled. “No son, its definitely not a father-daughter relationship.”

Arthur frowned, “then what?”

Dutch smiled, “Emmeline needs...she needs to be controlled, protected. She hasn't had that in the past. Part of that is the way she addresses me.”

Arthur hummed, “she’s very innocent, Dutch. Does she know,” he hesitated, “I mean does she know what you are...what you like?”

Dutch licked his lips, “She knows just as much as she needs to know, son, and that's just the way I like it.”


	12. Home Again

You didn't remember falling asleep on the ride back from Lagras. Dutch’s arm gently wrapped around you, and the warmth of his body, coupled with the gentle movement of The Count, lulled you to sleep.

When you arrived at Shady Belle, Dutch gently roused you from your slumber.

“Emmie, sweetheart?” Dutch whispered, as he hand gently stroked your cheek.

You slowly opened your eyes, your eyes adjusting to the dimness. You weren’t sure what time it was, but you knew it was still night.

Dutch saw your eyes open, “we’re home baby girl,. just need Hosea to take a look at your leg.”

You frowned, “please daddy, I don’t want him to.”

“Emmeline!” Dutch warned.

Tears started to pool in your eyes, “I...I’m sorry daddy, I...I’m just scared.”

Dutch sighed, “you know what happens if you don’t do as your told, Emmeline?”

You looked down, “yes daddy,” you whispered.

“So?” Dutch demanded.

You looked up, his face was stern.

“W...will you hold me...when he looks...please daddy?” You begged.

Dutch’s expression softened, and he kissed your temple, “Of course I will, baby girl.”

  
Dutch dismounted and lifted you off of The Count. As he carried you into the house, he called to Hosea, who followed you in.

Dutch carried you into the bedroom, and put you on the bed.

“Can you take a look at her leg, Hosea?” he asked, as Hosea followed you both into the bedroom.

Hosea came and sat on the bed. Seeing the fear on your face, he smiled gently.

“Don’t worry Emmeline, I’ll be very gentle,” he ensured.

Dutch wrapped his arm around you, and you leant into him.

Hosea started to unwrap the bandage.

Dutch stroked your face, “good girl Emmie.”

  
Before you knew it, the bandage was off. Hosea carefully looked at the wound on your leg.

You squeezed your eyes closed, you didn't want to see what was underneath the bandage

“She’s pulled a stitch, but it should be OK. It’s not bleeding now,” he confirmed, “I’ll put a clean bandage on, but she needs to start putting some weight on it.”

Dutch nodded, “you hear that Emmie? You’re gonna be a good girl and do as Hosea suggests?”

You nodded, “yes daddy,” you whispered, not really keen on the idea.

  
Hosea finished bandaging your leg. When he was done, he looked at Dutch.

“Can I have a quick word, Dutch?”

Dutch nodded, and stood up, “I’ll be right back, angel,” he added, casting you a glance.

You watched, as Dutch and Hosea walked from the bedroom into the adjoining sitting room.

  
“Dutch?” Hosea began, frowning, “are you sure about this, about Emmeline?”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “Hosea, I’ve never been so sure of anything, why?”

Hosea sighed, “I know you like them young, but...well she’s barely more than a child!”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “Hosea, she seventeen!”

Hosea rubbed the back of his head, “she’s so innocent, she has no experience of the world!”

Dutch smiled, “exactly Hosea, she’s perfect. She’s everything I’ve ever looked for. What I could never find, not in Molly, not even in Annabelle.”

Hosea shook his head, “I hope you know what your doing, Dutch, really I do.”

Dutch put a hand on his friends shoulder, “trust me Hosea, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  
You swung your legs over the side of the bed, placing your bare feet on the wooden floor, you gritted your teeth and stood.

It hurt, more than you thought it would, but you had to do this.

It was what your daddy wanted. You hated when he was stern with you. Not just because you were afraid he would punish you, but because you wanted to be his good girl. You yearned for his praise, yearned to always be his good girl. The way he smiled, the softness of his voice and the touch of his lips when you pleased him. All you wanted to do was please him.

You took one step away from the bed, with gritted teeth. A small whimper escaped your lips, and you squeezed your eyes closed, trying to block out the pain.

  
Your eyes snapped open as you heard the door open.

“Emmie, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Dutch exclaimed.

He rushed over to where you were standing.

You looked up at him, eyes wide and blinking.

“I...I was using my leg, like you wanted,” you stuttered.

Dutch smiled and pressed his hand to your cheek, “Oh Emmie,” he whispered, “you didn't have to do that now.”

You swallowed hard, “I wanted to daddy, for you...”

Dutch smiled, “perfect,” he muttered to himself.

“Hold your arms up Emmie, its about time we took that nightdress off,” he stated.

You bit you lip, as you raised your arms. You still weren’t used to being naked in front of him, although it was getting easier.

Dutch took hold of the hem of your nightdress, his fingers delicately grazing over your skin as he lifted the material up and over your head. He flung it across the room, as you stood there naked before him.

“Put your arms down, and stand still,” he commanded.

You did exactly as he asked, trembling in anticipation.

  
Dutch walked round you taking in your naked body. From your pert breasts to your firm bottom. You were flawless. Your skin delicate and pale.

He gently traced line down your back, causing you to gasp and tremble.

You felt his breath on your neck, causing the delicate hairs to stand on end. He gently pressed his lips to your shoulder.

“Such a good girl for me,” he purred.

Dutch walked over to the bed, and sat down.

“Come here Emmie,” he commanded.

You limped back towards the bed.

Dutch patted his lap, and sighed.

You frowned, and went to sit on his lap.

He tutted, “No, no Emmie, not like that.”

Dutch pulled you across his lap.

“W...why daddy? What did I do?” you wailed.

Dutch rubbed your backside, and licked his lips.

“You tell me Emmeline, why am I punishing you?”

You didn't answer, you didn't know why.

You felt a sharp swat on your left cheek.

“Answer me Emmeline.” he barked sternly, “why did I punish you last time?”

“I...I don’t know daddy,” you whimpered.

Dutch swatted the other cheek.

“Just because I tell you what you should do, and when you should do it, doesn’t mean you can’t use your brain Emmeline McKenzie!”

You felt him rubbing the skin on your bottom, you would have to think quickly before he swatted you again. You knew it wasn't because you ran away, and you didn't steal anything.

“I...I put myself in danger?” You blurted.

Dutch nodded, “yes you did, twice. You screamed when Colm took you, making him punch you, and you screamed at Bronte’s house and that thug was going to shoot you. You do realise you could have been killed?”

You hadn’t even thought about it, what were you supposed to do? You guessed it didn't matter, these were his rules, not yours.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you sniffled.

Dutch hummed, “count after each one Emmeline.”

  
You were sure he didn't hit you as hard this time, as he had last time. That's not to say it didn't hurt. It wasn’t as many this time either, when you reached ten he stopped, and gently stroked both cheeks with his hands.

“Good girl, you took your punishment well,” he praised.

You lay across his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands stroking you. First your bottom, then his fingers gently glided up and down your back. You trembled as you felt the pressure beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

“Emmie?” Dutch smirked, “do you like being spanked?”

you shook your head, “N...no daddy,” you stuttered, your voice trembling slightly.

You felt his hand move between you legs, as his finger stroked your folds.

“My, my baby girl, if you don't like being spanked, why are you so wet for me?” Dutch smirked.

You felt your face flush, “S...sorry daddy, it was from before!”

Dutch frowned, “before?”

“When I took my nightdress off, and you touched my back,” you admitted.

Dutch chuckled, “let daddy sort his little girl out, eh?”

You nodded, “please daddy.”

  
Dutch gently lifted you up, and laid you on the bed.

“hands behind your head, baby girl.”

You immediately did as he asked. Your breath was already coming in shallow gasps of anticipation.

You felt his hands slide down your sides, until they held your pelvis, holding you firmly in place. Then he started to kiss your stomach, trailing kisses further down. You squealed as he gently nipped the inside of your thigh. Then you felt it, his tongue gently licking your folds. You tried to buck your hips, but his hands held you tightly in place.

“Patience baby girl,” he chuckled, before attacking your bud, with his tongue, and sucking hard. You couldn’t help but scream, as the coil in your stomach got tighter. Every so often he bring you to the edge, then stop. You tried several times to buck your hips, but he had too strong a hold on you.

“What do you say baby girl?” He teased.

You whimpered, with frustration, “P...please daddy, please I need...need you.”

Dutch chuckled.

“Who do you belong to baby girl?”

“You daddy, please...only you!” you begged.

Dutch smiled, “Yes Emmie, you belong to me!”

Dutch removed his hand from your pelvis, gently inserting one finger inside you. The change of sensation made you scream. He added another finger, and started to thrust, slowly at first, until you were more used to the feeling. Then he started to speed up, he could tell you were close.

“Good girl,” he praised, “cum for daddy!”

You felt yourself rising, and just before the plunge you screamed out.

“Daaa….aaa…dddy!”

Dutch watched you as you literally came apart in his hands, your orgasm so strong, that you squirted your juices all over his fingers.

He licked his fingers, “damn you taste good,” he purred.

  
Dutch looked at you, covered in sweat and panting, as he removed his clothes.

He climbed onto the bed, next to you, and wrapped his arms around you.

“Such a good girl for daddy,” he whispered.

You pressed your body close to his, relishing the warmth of his skin on yours. You moaned as his hands caressed your back.

“I love you, daddy,” you mumbled.

Dutch smiled, “I love you too, baby girl.”


End file.
